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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035708">To Commit Heresy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/frantic/pseuds/frantic'>frantic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy Tactics, 幼女戦記 | Youjo Senki | Saga of Tanya the Evil (Manga), 幼女戦記 | Youjo Senki | Saga of Tanya the Evil - Carlo Zen (Light Novels)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:55:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,151</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035708</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/frantic/pseuds/frantic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tanya Degurechaff wished for simple things in Ivalice. A warm bed, a fine meal, and a roof over her head. And that’s just what she was after when she joined Gariland Magic Academy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Courting Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“To call those two mere ‘heretics’ is to demean their sins. They did not simply attack Ajura - they dethroned him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Quote from “A Reflection on The Heroes of the Zodiac Conflict”, by the High Confessor Orcalius Synli, AU 25.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>PART I: <em>The Prodigious.</em></strong>
</p><p>
  <em>chapter 1: Courting Death</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Again, </em>Ramza? Really?”</p><p>The tray clattered onto the wooden table with a jolt, startling the straw-haired boy out of his reverie. How he'd achieved it in the midst of such a vast grand hall, and the scattering pockets of sound that rumbled through it like a herd of chocobo was unclear in the first place. His eyes blinked rapidly a few times, a frown forming on his face as he shot a dirty look towards the boy who had just sat down. The other boy, a brown haired youth who rolled his eyes before tearing into his bread like a ravenous panther.</p><p>“If I didn’t know you any better,” he said, waving his spoon at the blond as he dunked his bread into the academy’s atrocious stew, while his friend’s spoon absently stirred it in circles. “I’d swear upon my grave that you were a deviant, the way you stare at her.”</p><p>“A deviant?” The boy replied, finally eating a bit of the damned stew. He chewed it methodically, before swallowing it down with a grimace. “Are you saying that you’ve no curiosity at all for her?”</p><p>“I, Ramza,” Delita said with a grin and a mouthful of bread, “Have a brain between my ears. Have you forgotten what she did to Amelie?”</p><p>“I don’t think I could forget,” Ramza mumbled into his stew, before stealing another glance at Degurechaff. “The last time Montgomery spoke of it, Amelie froze his legs in place for a fortnight.”</p><p>“And yet you persist?” His brown-haired friend arched an eyebrow. “You’ve some disturbing views on courtship, Ramza. I’ve seen how she looks at you, and I’ve already started the pool - when we graduate, she’ll slip a knife ‘tween your ribs while you slumber.”</p><p>Ramza flinched at that. Degurechaff had not been kind in the last match between the two constantly-dueling squadrons. It was only natural, though. She <em>was </em>down two at the moment.</p><p>“I’m not <em>courting </em>her, Delita,” Ramza said, as he went back to staring at Degurechaff. The small girl looked up at him briefly, before going back to her food. “I just find her…”</p><p>“Cruel? Wicked? To be a devil in human form?”</p><p>“You’re exaggerating,” Ramza said with a bit of laughter. “She’s not <em>that</em> terrible. She’s just… unique?”</p><p>“I’d rather not meddle with that sort of uniqueness,” Delita muttered into his almost-finished meal. “When I asked her if I could perhaps catch a glimpse of her notes in history, she gave me a look so damning I felt as if the maid had caught me in the cupboards again.”</p><p>“You should <em>really </em>take your own notes, Delita.”</p><p>“Perish the thought! Why would I waste my time with <em>notetaking</em> when there are so many more fascinating things to explore here, Ramza?” He waggled his eyebrows provocatively at one of the girls on a nearby bench, who giggled and turned back to her meal. “Perhaps if you weren’t so fixated on that villainess, you might find a more worthwhile pastime yourself!”</p><p>“A fixation?” Ramza mused, taking a deep breath before he took another distasteful gulp of stew. “It’s not a <em>fixation, </em>Delita, I just…”</p><p>He grimaced. In his mind’s eye, he could see her stony visage the first time the two had dueled, and the words she’d said when he’d lost.</p><p>“I simply wish to show that she’s <em>wrong.</em>”</p><p>“Well, if anyone could prove her wrong, it’d be you, Ramza,” Delita said with a wink. “Second coming of Balbanes, or so I’ve heard our instructors claim.”</p><p>Ramza flushed. While in hindsight, the simple act of repeating <em>any </em>of Balbanes’ feats at the academy was a mistake, but he couldn’t help but push himself after Degurechaff had started to pick up teleportation.</p><p>He’d be <em>damned </em>before he let her beat him at anything.</p><p>“Enough of Degurechaff,” Ramza said, smiling widely at Delita as I leaned forward. “I’ve heard that Tietra sent you a letter?”</p><p>Delita’s face lit up like the sun, as he began to explain to his friend the contents of Tietra’s letters. The other boy laughed, letting Delita’s words about Tietra and his sister’s misadventures clear his mind from the blonde girl who constantly invaded his thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>xxx</p><p>Economically, I had no idea how the Order of the Northern Sky survived. Donations? Nonsensical. Donations couldn’t fund this ridiculous institution that I’d enrolled in to better my future. It was incredibly blessed - or cursed - that this world I’d found myself in was quite progressive, and had little to no problems at all with allowing young girls to sign themselves up to participate in mortal combat. If I were in a different world, that had more strident requirements to pick up a blade, then I would have been in a truly dire situation. My body was small, far smaller than I had been at this same age when I was alive. While trades are a reliable source of income, an orphaned girl has no such opportunities lying before her to become a respectable adult.</p><p>Fortunate, then, that Ivalice didn’t give a damn about your age, sex, or prior occupation if you had enough martial skill to join one of their two militaries. Being that Zeltennia was several hundred miles away, I felt it easier to join Garland’s academy than to attempt the long trek elsewhere. But this did not solve the economic issues I was sure would be inevitable in such an unstable monarchy. Monarchies are an excellent form of government in general, as they are fundamentally just a corporation. The CEO, or the King, gains many accolades for leading his human resources to glory and riches, but he can just as easily be deposed for ruining the company. I have no general problem with a monarchist system, but the more I look into the history of Ivalice, the more fearful I grow of the future.</p><p>Fifty years of constant war?! This damned devil threw me into an economy that was already in depression, with an absent-minded king who lets his advisors walk all over him! This was the last thing you wanted in a company - a CEO who can’t say no to his stockholders!</p><p>As I took a sip of what this military institution claimed was ‘food’, I wondered why Being X had sentenced me to such a fate. As a salaryman, I had simply done the duty that was required of me, as it was required of me. Faith had no part in my role as a salaryman, because there are only three things that the ordinary person needs to believe in:</p>
<ol>
<li>Himself.</li>
<li>His superior.</li>
<li>Supply and demand.</li>
</ol><p>Anything else is unnecessary. You will fulfill the tasks you are capable of, which your trustworthy superior will assign to you to fulfill, which will be created based on the <em>demand </em>of what you must do versus the <em>supply </em>of things that need to be done. It is best to keep things simple, as once you enter more complex concepts, it is very easy to get lost in the constant shuffle of ideas. Even if Being X wishes for me to live in a time of war, he forgot the most obvious solution -</p><p>If I am already an established and respected member of the military before the war even begins, I will most assuredly be assigned to the rear. Especially if I continue to show such prowess in these wargames. Although…</p><p>I sneaked a peak at my only rival in this school. Ordinarily, I would be pleased; having reliable and trustworthy coworkers at your side is always something that makes one feel relaxed. Knowing that the laughing blond was competent would put me at ease when we inevitably deployed for battle, but right now he was threatening my wonderful future in the backlines. I had already had it well underway - learning time magic so that way I could support my allies from far away from the battlefield, learning healing magic so that way I could heal myself in case I nearly died, and even dabbling a bit in my native roots in case I was somehow, inexplicably, forced into a melee.</p><p>Ramza Beoulve was a noble, which meant that he was far ahead of me in social class. As a common orphan, I am of a social class that is equivalent to the pond scum beneath the nobility’s feet, barely fit to lick their fine boots as they walk all over my back. This is why a free market economy is far superior; individuals are assigned worth based on their value, and more valuable resources naturally float to the top. In a monarchist society, valuable resources are often discarded in favor of nepotism or pedigree based resources. As the son of one of the previous generals, Ramza’s value naturally far outweighs mine, so I was hoping that my scores in the academy could help boost me over him.</p><p>And yet…</p><p>And yet…!!!</p><p>He keeps beating me! Isn’t this a bit ridiculous?! I train just as much as he does! I even train with him sometimes, just to make sure that I know all of his moves in advance before any of the matches! I’ve whipped my entire squadron into a shape that I can only describe as ‘barely competent’, but I can’t even fault for them for losing to him sometimes. Honestly, prodigies like that are scary. People like him will be all over the frontlines, which is the absolute last place I want to be. Just lose five - no ten - no <em>twenty </em>more times to me Ramza. That way I can secure my rightful place where I belong - safe in the rear.</p><p>The academy overall has been very good compared to the orphanage at least. In my previous life, I had never gone hungry or felt the pangs of hunger in my belly, but here, they were a constant. Ivalice had not fared well at the end of the war, it’d be easy to say that Ivalice and Ordallia didn’t stop fighting because they ran out of <em>human </em>resources, but <em>golden </em>ones. Those tinkling little resources were starting to run dry, and the upper class was starting to feel their belts tighten a little too much for comfort. So, call off the war for now, and pretend as if we’re friends for a few years while we prepare to slaughter each other again.</p><p>This era of knights and sorcery is so simple it’s almost nostalgic. It almost makes me long for those ancient days of playing games like Dragon Quest late at night until my eyes closed, waking up to the quiet beeps and tones of the music.</p><p>But behind that simplicity lies the extreme danger of this world. With such simple ideas, they have simple tactics and simple beliefs. The only one who even thinks with a modicum of strategy is the Beoulve, and his friend to a lesser extent. I’d hoped to have both of them in my squadron, as the rest of the class had to be dragged screaming and crying to competency, but my hopes were dramatically shattered when the rosters were announced. Ramza and I were doomed to never work together, and I would be forced to desperately train my subordinates to be able to even touch him. It was really unfair, the standards that Ramza made me set. I let out a sigh as I dipped my bread into the stew, taking a mournful bite of it as I cursed my circumstances. If only I could have born a noble, my life would have been so much easier, but I know exactly who is at fault for this. It’s that cursed Being X! It’s simply attempting to eat away at my resolve, by making go through hardships that I would not have to in a civilized society! As if that would endear me to its ridiculous belief system. Why would causing someone to suffer make them want to pray to you? It’s completely counterintuitive. If anything, Being X should have rewarded me for my excellent analysis for why it’s system was no longer as attractive as it previously once was, but I was used to being punished by ridiculous superiors for nonsensical reasons. As a salaryman, I had learned to only propose such ideas if nobody else would, or if there were simply no other options. Even if Being X is a fool, I should have acknowledged its superiority even temporarily to allow for me to live - or die, I suppose - peacefully.</p><p>But now?</p><p>Now?</p><p>Never, Being X. If you offered me your hand when I was falling to my death, I would try to fall faster before accepting your aid. You’ll never manage to trick me again! You say you’re a god, but aren’t you just a kid throwing a tantrum that nobody wants to play with him right now? What an idiotic being you are.</p><p>I lifted my bowl to my face, gulping down the last bit of stew before tossing the bread in my mouth and getting out of my chair. I had been researching Haste, after one of the teachers had quietly pulled me aside and said that it allegedly makes learning to teleport easier. Why moving extremely fast makes <em>instantaneous </em>movement easier is nonsensical, as they are two entirely different forms of maneuverability with entirely different drawbacks and gains. Obviously, instantaneous movement is preferable in almost every situation, isn’t it?</p><p>Off to the library I went. I smiled politely at Ramza as I walked by, who gave me a small wave back. His friend, on the other hand, froze and looked at me with a visage of utter horror. I winked at him, letting him know that I was in on his little practical joke at long last. He had been doing it for so long I had feared he was actually afraid of me, but his best friend was <em>Ramza.</em></p><p>I’m nowhere near <em>that </em>scary.</p><p> </p><p>xxx</p><p> </p><p>“She knows.”</p><p>“Knows what, Delita?”</p><p>“I haven’t the faintest, but <em>she knows I did it!</em> I’ve got to apologize,” the brown-haired boy scrambled to his feet, waving to Ramza as he moved. “I’ll see you in class, Ramza. I’ve a maiden to beg forgiveness from.”</p><p>“A maiden!? Delita, what on Earth-”</p><p>But it was too late, the boy had already run off, slipping out of the cafeteria after Degurechaff without a second word. Ramza sighed, turning moodily towards his food as he picked through it. He didn’t know <em>what </em>drew him to Tanya Degurechaff - the shortest girl in their year, yet arguably their ace. She wasn’t the strongest person at the school, nor was she the smartest - there were cleverer geniuses, and stronger mages and warriors - but the flair she had was all her own. It was just…</p><p>He clenched his fists.</p><p>The way she went about things was wrong. It wasn’t heinously wrong, or horrifically wrong, but it was incorrect. He didn’t know <em>how </em>to put into words what the girl was wrong about, but he could feel it in his soul, that something about just the way she did things was unjust. Ignoble would be too far; and Degurechaff would always roll her eyes when someone called her ignoble, pointing out with a wide smile that she was as common as muck, so wasn’t <em>everything </em>she did ignoble? This usually drew some of the more foolish students into a debate over what nobility was and meant, but all of that was too far above his head for Ramza to understand.</p><p>He just knew she was wrong. That was all that was in his mind when he trained, when he fought, when he thought - in order to prove her wrong, he’d have to <em>match </em>her<em>. </em>It was almost unfair, really - he’d had to run his squadron into the ground just for them to even <em>touch </em>Degurechaff’s ridiculous standards.</p><p>With a determined look on his face, he wolfed down the rest of the atrocious academy lunch, before standing himself. If Degurechaff was in the library, that meant he had time as well - and he’d been getting closer and closer to finally grasping the hilt of those knightswords that his grandfather and brothers cherished so much.</p><p> </p><p>xxx</p><p> </p><p>Yeah it's been a while, here I am again, writing something completely different. I am not a consistent person, but I am a fun person! I've been reading <a href="http://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/would-that-i-were-born-no-princess-youjo-senki-final-fantasy-tactics-wotl.805228">Would that I were born no Princess</a>, which is also FFT/YS (so I can't deny the concept occured to me because of it), and you should as well because it's very different from this. I'm going to immediately fuck off canon rails like I do everywhere, but that's mostly because I've beaten FFT like 25 times. I don't need to retread the plot of a game I know like the back of my hand. The starting point is a bit before the start of canonical Final Fantasy Tactics. This is Tanya's first reincarnation.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Civilized Age</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>x<br/>x<br/>x</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Sign the damn order. The cadets need blooding, and our coffers are empty. Have you forgotten the consequences of the previous war already?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Dycedarg Beoulve to Duke Bestrald Larg, letter with unknown date.</em>
</p><p>x<br/>x<br/>x</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>Chapter 2: A Civilized Age.</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>In a civilized society, school takes place at approximately 8:45 and ends at approximately 16:15, barring extracurricular activities, which you should, of course, be participating in so that you may become a respectable adult. Ivalice, however, was a deviant, bloodthirsty, medieval nation. At this damnable academy, I was forced to wake up as the sun rose and allowed free time when it fell. It was at that point that we were fortunately - or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint - and blessedly, dismissed and our time was relinquished once more into our grip. But don’t fool yourself. Much like your superior who promises you won’t work late as long as you finish the project he dumped into your lap at the start of the day, our time was spent by the vast majority of students training or studying for the academy.</p><p>The extracurricular activities that an ordinary student would take are non-existent here, for this ‘free period’ is to prepare yourself for your future assignments. While, rationally, this is reasonable; it is important to be prepared for the tasks that your superiors are sure to assign to you, morally it is dubious. To assign subordinates extra work in such a twisted way, where they make it into your own choice...</p><p>As a salaryman, I was not unused to absurd hours, poor working conditions, and general morale issues. But wasn’t this a bit too much for such a young student body? I had hoped that the hours here would at least be better then my job in my previous life! Damn you Being X, it’s your fault, isn’t it? That’s the only explanation for why nobody in this world understands the necessity of sleep! Taking away even the thing that all humans cherish the most… Being X really is a devil.</p><p>But it was still better than being a commoner at this school. While I had risen through the glories of meritocracy - I still remembered the hours when I was on the commoner track instead of the noble one. Awake at four. Allowed the pain of that blessed lie known as freedom at twenty. Two hours of ostensible ‘free time’, that realistically amounted to studying and training. It was not unreasonable, in this era. The commoner track started so early because it naturally had to teach reading and writing for two hours, but the late release was simply because the teachers were more incompetent and paid less compared to the noble track.</p><p>Because I had shown proficiency in a few simple languages, the teachers had scrambled to move me out of the lower bracket, which pleased me greatly. Already, I could tell that a nation on the verge of war was almost as desperate for competent people as a nation <em>mired </em>in war. In a time of peace, meritocracy was easy to throw to the side, after all.</p><p>Peacetime was when a population could grow fat and lazy on their own laurels, as long as the economy was moving swiftly. It was only in wartime that you needed competent superiors to whip the lazy subordinates into shape. My ability to read, write, and speak multiple languages was one that was fairly uncommon in this era, and I could feel my safe future as a diplomat - or perhaps a strategist, if resources remained so slim for the pickings that a desperate war with Ordalia would begin - start to secure itself.</p><p>As I daydreamed of moonlighting in Romanda, I was in the midst of another class on magic.</p><p>This world - which so closely resembled my own - only had a few differences that were immediately obvious, this one being the most obvious. Magic is real in this world, the ability to manifest your own vision and idea of reality and force it to be true was most assuredly an alluring ability. Unfortunately, magic was ill-understood. Despite it being such a core fixture of this world, the way that it was utilized in warfare brought a sinking feeling to my stomach.</p><p>The real issue was range. When I heard that magic was real, I was naturally excited - dreaming of a wondrous future where I stayed safe and far away from any real combat while sniping my enemies and remaining safe - it was not meant to be. Magic had a maximum range, and if you went over that maximum range it got increasingly and increasingly more useless the further and further you went away. The stronger you were as a mage, the further your range was, but your spells grew weaker if they were <em>too </em>far from you.</p><p>Naturally, the nobility flipped this entire concept on it’s head, with their magic swordsman, who cast <em>from range, </em>with <em>swords. </em>Swords! Why wouldn’t they just cast using a bow, when it had far superior range!? The arrogance of the upper class of society cannot be underestimated, that much is true. I was shocked when I learned that the Ordallians were beyond arrogant - their mages were given the scantest amount of combat training and thrown into the frontlines with a bright red coat on. Are you trying to get them killed?</p><p>The drawbacks of magic are vastly outweighed by its usefulness. Teleportation alone should be required learning, in my humble opinion. Unfortunately, my range was… limited, to put it politely. The amount of arithmetic involved in teleportation was <em>absurd</em>, and my mind was constantly swimming with vectors and physic equations with every step I took.</p><p>“Cadet Degurechaff,” the teacher said, and I looked up at the board, my eyes scanning the equation behind him. “Your thoughts?”</p><p>“The math’s off.” I said bluntly, looking at the equation. “There’s a forgotten division. Your summon will break its chains in half, and be unleashed on the battlefield. Good to cover a retreat.”</p><p>Magic was versatile, useful, and dangerous. Arithmetic was a magic in and of itself here, but the equations they were using made me want to cry. I had hoped that any of my schooling prior would carry over, but that damned Being X! Pi is different here! They use different markings for every equation! Magic equals force plus determination?! What does that even mean, you useless parasite masquerading as a god!</p><p>It was fortunate that while everyone else in the commoner track had been studying how to read and write, I had thrown myself into math with such fervor that you could have confused me for Aristotle. Magic was actually relatively simple, if one compared it to an economical equation. Money is made through force plus determination. Without appropriate amounts of each, your company will fail. Too much force, and your employees will run dry far too quickly. Too little determination, and your workforce will be lazy and lackluster, unable to complete even a simple report in an adequate amount of time.</p><p>“Right as always, Cadet,” the professor said to me with a kindly smile.</p><p>I perked up, naturally pleased that I was being noticed in such a way. With an adequate showing of knowledge, as well as practical ability, I will be able to escape this inevitable battle that the Northern Sky is rushing headlong into.</p><p>“However,” the professor continued, “an unleashed summon cannot differ between friends or foes. It would be as likely to destroy you as it would be to destroy your enemies.”</p><p>I nodded, but knew he was being ridiculous, as always. Unlocking a summon’s chains would tear the battlefield in half. The level of magic you could pour inside of one of those things was absolutely ridiculous, and assuming your math was correct, your summon would have however much power you poured into it, in <em>addition </em>to whatever energy it’s drawing from the environment. As such, if you were already halfway <em>off </em>the battlefield when you summoned it, it was quite possibly the safest place to be.</p><p>Too bad that every summoner I knew was pathetic in melee combat, with twig-like arms and no understanding of how to dodge at <em>all. </em>There was a girl in Ramza’s squadron that was exactly like that herself; overflowing with mana, but without a speck of martial skill.</p><p>I’d been trying to instruct her in the recent skirmishes - she <em>was, </em>after all, one of the best mages in our year - but she’d been reluctant to learn anything from me yet. I was hopeful, though. There were rumors that Ramza would be taught some of his brother’s talents when he went back home, and <em>everyone </em>at the academy knew Ramza was an idiot who was perfectly happy to explain his techniques to anyone who asked. His explanations were short, concise, and relatively simple to understand, so I found it quite refreshing to ask him for them.</p><p>It was too bad that everyone else had so many issues understanding them. They really weren’t that confusing.</p><p>“Before I release you to supper,” the professor said, glancing at a piece of paper on his desk, “Cadet Beoulve, Cadet Degurechaff, you’ve received a summons to the headmaster's office. Please head there at once, would you?”</p><p>The headmaster?</p><p>The headmaster!?</p><p>Damn it. Damn it all to hell. I wasn’t prepared for such an event, even as I saluted with my back as straight as a rod, before swiftly walking to the door, tapping my foot as I waited for Ramza to follow me before opening it and heading out.</p><p>I was nervous as I walked, but my fellow student seemed to be completely at ease in these gaudy halls. Has he never been scolded by a superior before? Does he not know how much money must go into repairing the aftermaths of the battlefields?</p><p>When I had discovered students have to pay for repairs out of their own pocket, I immediately swapped to a track of magic that was inherently easier to repair than Black or Summoning. White and Time magic really <em>were </em>the best, and their highest tier of spells didn’t even leave any aftermath, because they were entirely magical constructs and dissipated on hit! I hadn’t paid a <em>cent </em>to the academy after the moment I had uncovered this fact.</p><p>Although it teaches the students to be economically minded, isn’t it unfair to teach children things that will invariably damage their surroundings, tell them to use them, and then <em>charge </em>them for it? This was one of the most devious Ponzi schemes I’d ever seen. I’d have to take care to make sure Ramza didn’t fall for it. As an HR manager, I couldn’t allow for such a competent employee to go wasted purely because he’d been dragged into a whirlwind of economic deceits.</p><p>“Ramza,” I said quietly, tugging on his shirt and giving him a stern look, “If he asks us for money, do we run?”</p><p>“Are you being serious?”</p><p>I glared at him in response, and he let out a short bark of laughter, before it dawned on me - Ramza was a <em>Beoulve, </em>a family that was tied so closely to Duke Larg that there were rumors Dycedarg was swapped at birth. Any sort of monetary problem that he had would be easily and instantly resolved.</p><p>Adaptability was important for humans.</p><p>When I was at college, I never ran into that wonderful dream of an elite friend to grasp onto like a mosquito and hitch a free ride to high society. I was instead forced to become a corporate slave, monotonously picking away at miserable tasks in hopes that my superiors would see my competence and promote me. This is one of the benefits of meritocracy - that through your own efforts, you can easily rise high. But that would take time, time that I did not have in a country on the brink of war. Even beyond that, Ramza’s own brother was Duke Larg’s chief strategist! If I could get an audience with <em>him</em>, even for just a second…</p><p>Nepotism really is a terrifying thing, huh? I’m getting shivers just <em>thinking </em>about all I could accomplish by latching onto Ramza like a leech. Ramza, please allow me to hang off your back in order to climb the social ladder. You already have one hanger-on! Can’t you allow for another one?!</p><p>“Obviously not,” I lied. “It was a joke.”</p><p>“Odd choice of words for a jest, Degurechaff,” Ramza replied, looking at me with worry. I missed my prior height, where he would be forced to look <em>up </em>to meet my eyes, rather than looking so far down. It was far harder to pity people who were above you. “Are your finances a bit tight right now? Your scores are more than good enough, have none offered to sponsor you?”</p><p>I was pretty sure that I had a sponsor, considering you <em>had </em>to have one to be moved into the noble track at all. I wasn’t entirely sure who it was, but I suspected it was one of the professors. Most of the teachers <em>were </em>nobility after all, which was why this school was so precious to my future, especially now that all my classmates and future co-workers were nobility as well. Even my own precious second in command was part of the nobility, albeit from…</p><p>Well, I hadn’t the faintest. I was never big on remembering regional differences, as all that truly matters is that the nation as a whole operates as one unit. Even in war, the nation’s center holds fast - although sometimes it is a bit too shaky for anyone’s liking. I just hoped we didn’t end up invading Ordalia. Yes, the Ordallians were backwards bourgeois elitists, and yes they <em>did </em>often write terrible plays that all the girls at this academy swooned over, but they <em>also </em>made absurdly tasty sweets. As a salaryman, I was never really one for sweets - perhaps it was because I was a man, perhaps it was because I had no free time, or perhaps something else - but as Tanya Degurechaff, I have come to admit, most humbly, that the women in my previous life were correct.</p><p>Sweets were <em>amazing. </em>I wanted those damn recipes if I had to kill someone else for it.</p><p>“I’m fine, Beoulve,” I said in a matter of fact tone. “Not used to the commoners joking with you, are you?”</p><p>He flinched at that one, and I marked another point in my mental book. That makes 566-2, in verbal sparring for me versus Ramza Beoulve. Even if we were even in battle, this was one area of combat that he couldn’t possibly match me in.</p><p>“That was also a joke, Beoulve.”</p><p>“Your jokes hurt a little bit, Degurechaff.”</p><p>Did they? I wasn’t entirely sure about my sense of humor, but Ramza’s friend seemed to get them entirely. He had rushed after me before I made it to the library, and babbled out some ridiculous nonsense over how fate was inevitable, and he wished to change the inevitable fate of his demise. I nodded politely and told him I agreed, and that he should try harder to become more useful as a human resource, so he was more than welcome to join me in training. He stammered something about thinking about it, before running off.</p><p>Ramza should be thanking me, honestly. I’m improving his resources at an exponential rate, and what has he ever done for me? I’m positive that in our next match, even <em>Amelie </em>will be able to dodge at least one attack! The last time our squadrons battled, he stabbed <em>through </em>Alexander’s shield! Through it! What kind of ridiculous training regime is he doing? Are there time compression chambers at this school or something!?</p><p>“I apologize, Beoulve.”</p><p>“Well, I suppose that’s kind of-”</p><p>“Ah. I’m sorry. That was also a joke.”</p><p>“You’ve tricked me once more, Degurechaff.”</p><p>I hummed pleasantly as we walked the rest of the way to the headmaster’s office. The academy was gaudy, but in a way that showed an extensive level of class. Red carpets rolled down the circular staircase that lead to the headmaster’s office, with shining white marble pillars holding up the roof, upon which a sundial was painted with a picture of one of the Saints of this country. Being X wasn’t the most intelligent, was he? Despite sending me here to make me believe in him, this world doesn’t even have a system of belief that he’s a part of! This isn’t even a world with a single God or anything, there’s dozens!</p><p>But I can’t deny a suspicious similarity to Christianity. The twelve zodiacs and Saint Ajura - it was just a lazily rewritten version of Jesus Christ, wasn’t it? I mean, sure Saint Ajura actually did something <em>valuable; </em>society would have truly collapsed if a demon had taken over it, but it was fundamentally just an old story at this point. I’d heard the damned tale of ‘Ajura and the tree’ half a hundred times, and each time was worse than the last.</p><p>As was expected, Ramza led me into the office. This was a classic defense mechanism that I often abused in my previous life; if you are worried your superior is planning to take out their anger on you, have a more well-liked coworker enter before you and chat up your superior. That precious coworker will save you from having to listen to the many complaints and confusing requests that superior officers will often hand out like candy on Halloween if you happen to be the target of their outrage. This well-liked coworker of mine will assuredly save me from a hopelessly dangerous situation - those were my thoughts walking into the room.</p><p>Which were promptly shattered when I saw Ramza’s brother there. With short auburn hair and brown eyes, he was dressed smartly - no armor for now. Wearing a black short jacket with golden seams, well fitted to his body, in addition to black and red pants with brown boots, the man smiled kindly at Ramza - and let out a small chuckle when he saw my small body appear from behind him.</p><p>“Zalbaag? By the Gods, what are you doing at the Academy?”</p><p>Zalbaag walked around the desk, the headmaster left forgotten as he glanced down the papers he had picked up.</p><p>“Why, I’d heard rumors that you were shattering records, Ramza. Is it not natural to want to see your relatives succeed?”</p><p>“I suppose it’s natural, but are you not busy with your duties?” Ramza said with a frown, glancing at his brother. “While they may seem unimportant, you must not forget-”</p><p>“No lectures, Ramza,” the man said with a laugh, erasing the creeping sense of horror that had crept up my spine as I listened to a <em>cadet </em>attempt to tell the <em>Knight Devout </em>what exactly he was supposed to do. I know he’s your brother Ramza, but I’m begging you to not drag us into anything stupid! “I’m just here to administer a… hm. Call it an early graduation exam?”</p><p>As always, my begging and pleading goes unnoticed in high society. While Ramza was certainly a freakish prodigy, I was only scrambling to keep up with him at best. The ridiculous shadow he left over our class was absurd, and he didn’t seem to have any indication of doing the reasonable thing and ‘slowing down’ so he could pick up ‘good assignments’ and not be involved in ‘incredibly dangerous situations’.</p><p>“An early graduation? Whatever for?”</p><p>“Have you not been following the news? Do you eat and sleep at the training ground?”</p><p>Ramza’s face flushed red, but I was convinced he <em>did. </em>I looked away for two days and he’d picked up the damn javelin like it was second nature. Two more and he’s messing around with barehanded boxing. A week passes and I hear someone say “Degurechaff, do you have any thoughts as to why magic fails to flow through weapons that aren’t knightswords?” and I turn around to see a total idiot standing in the training yard with fifty shattered weapons next to him.</p><p>“Is it the Corpse Brigade?” I asked, moving out from behind Ramza’s back and drawing Zalbaag’s attention to myself. “I’ve heard that they’re starting to move into more dangerous forms of villainy.”</p><p>The Corpse Brigade was an organization I wished I could wholeheartedly approve of. The common man, demanding fair pay for fair work? I was astonished to see such a thing in a place that could easily be mistaken for the 1400s, I almost wanted to cry! Obviously, fair pay for fair work was a completely reasonable request! It was almost a shame about all the thievery and murder that they were doing. It completely undercut their core message entirely! If you wanted to unionize, then start a damn union! Don’t kill off all your competition, then nobody will be willing to hire you except for other criminals! The reasoning behind it was obvious, however.</p><p>The Corpse Brigade was an organization of idealists. Fair pay for fair work, and fair work for fair pay. This was a common thought process that I respected deeply. As an avid fan of a meritocratic system, such thoughts were only natural. However, those beautiful ideals that they were founded upon end up tarred in the dirt and mud of reality. The cleanliness and wonder of fair work for fair pay doesn’t sound so appetizing when your family is starving. Thievery, murder - these are things that show you do not wish to be a member of society at all. Even if you are competent at these lawless deeds, does it really matter? To be unlawful is to reject society entirely, to claim that your way of living is more ‘just’ than others. But crimes destroy the inherent social contract that society makes.</p><p>‘I won’t murder.’</p><p>‘I won’t steal.’</p><p>‘I won’t rape.’</p><p>All of these things are necessary from <em>all </em>participants in society. Jails and jailors exist to place these undesirable societal elements into a position where they can murder, steal, and rape to their hearts content - but only among themselves. Beyond that, their crimes are ruining the good name of honest workers everywhere! As a salaryman - no, as a member of this society - I simply cannot allow this to continue. If it does, how the hell are commoners like me supposed to get jobs working for the government, if they suspect we’ll just throw a fit and destroy everything if things don’t go according to plan!? And even then, how will we <em>ever </em>get any of those wondrous things known as ‘labor laws’ if you resort to actions that even the most irrational person couldn’t possibly agree with?</p><p>“You,” Zalbaag said, looking me up and down. “From how Ramza and Delita described you in their letters I expected someone more… imposing.”</p><p>I hadn’t the faintest idea why. Nothing I had done to either of those two was all that terrifying.</p><p>“Degurechaff’s not that bad,” Ramza muttered under his breath, scratching the back of his head. “She’s just very… intense?”</p><p>“Those are almost the exact words you used to describe the <em>dragon </em>Alma tried to convince me to capture her for her birthday.”</p><p>“It was an incredibly intense dragon.”</p><p>“It’s a godsdamned <em>dragon, </em>Ramza. They’re <em>all </em>intense.”</p><p>This is exactly why I was convinced Ramza would do something completely idiotic, like dying, before dragging me to high society life.</p><p>“Barring your penchant for… <em>intensity,</em>” Zalbaag said the word with all the disbelief of a superior who has just realized that his subordinate is merely stupid, not incompetent, “Cadet Degurechaff is correct. The two of you - and a few additions from your squadrons - have been selected to stamp out the Corpse Brigade before they start to do things that are a tad more provocative.”</p><p>Ransacking houses and killing guards wasn’t provocative? I should have joined that gang in Dorter instead of becoming a student.</p><p>“Which ones exactly?” I asked, my tone neutral, but inside I was screaming. For one, this was an incredibly dangerous mission to assign to mere <em>cadets in training. </em>It spoke that my fears about the monetary troubles Ivalice was going through were more concrete then I’d originally expected, but even <em>worse</em>, we’d have to bring people who Ramza and I both knew were incompetent with us?</p><p>Half of Anelle’s spells explode! Felix stabbed himself in the thigh when he was trying to knock an arrow the other day! These simply weren’t people that I could trust with my safety.</p><p>As a primarily support-based mage, I was hoping to surround myself with wonderful, glorious meatshields such as Ramza on a regular basis, who would never leave my side once we entered the battlefield. But those dreams suddenly seemed further than our graduation, which had apparently been moved up to ‘yesterday’.</p><p>“Both of your seconds and thirds,” Zalbaag bluntly replied, and I almost sagged in relief. Delita and Amelie were trustworthy, even if Amelie couldn’t hold a sword worth a damn and Delita had never successfully cast a spell above <em>Fira </em>in his entire time. “As well as whoever else you desire to bring with you. I’m sure the two of you can fill in the blanks, yes?”</p><p>“And our time of departure?”</p><p>“Whenever you’ve assembled your makeshift squadron. I’d hoped you’d depart in… A month?”</p><p>A month!</p><p>A whole month!</p><p>Zalbaag, are you a saint? Could you, instead of Ramza, perhaps, drag me to the wonders of high society? This kindness is simply too much for a useless dreg like me, who is far too used to cruel and wicked superiors who demand responses on the same day, rather than such a far-off point in the future! Amelie could be taught how to dodge! Dirk might learn that flight is the perfect way to rain death down on your enemies! I felt a smile slowly start to grow on my face, only to see the headmaster glance up and pale.</p><p>“Err, Knight Devout,” he began, hastily scribbling a note onto the paper in front of him and handing it off to Zalbaag, “Perhaps it would be best if they departed a bit… sooner?”</p><p>Zalbaag looked at the note, and then at the pleased smile on my face.</p><p>“Yes, perhaps it is,” Zalbaag said, glancing at Ramza. “Tomorrow, then?”</p><p>Ramza and I saluted, even though I could see my dreams curling up into ash.</p><p>“And Ramza, when you return, you <em>must </em>have some sort of explanation for the costs of the battlegrounds, correct?”</p><p>Ramza looked at Zalbaag with a growing sensation of horror, and I could only feel pity that my competent coworker was being dragged into this damnable Ponzi scheme. I had to protest, before he was trapped in that existential hell known as ‘debt’ for the rest of his life.</p><p>“Are the battlegrounds not for training? Are they not there for us to utilize? To charge for their use… isn’t that just asking for your cadets to go into battle under-trained?”</p><p>Zalbaag mused over that thoughtfully, glancing down at me.</p><p>“Cadet, does that make it any less ridiculous to have destroyed <em>three? </em>How many have you destroyed at the Academy so far?”</p><p>I smiled like an angel.</p><p>“When I leave the battlefield, it is as clean as when I arrived on it.”</p><p>Ramza looked at me with wonder, as he very well should. I take pride in having paid nothing to the academy.</p><p>“Yes, I can see that from the… reports, of your squadrons clashing. No more of this then,” he said, looking the two of us over. “Collect your men. You depart at dawn.”</p><p>I nodded, giving a dirty look to the headmaster. He’d taken away my dream of a slow and lazy selection process. It wouldn’t have been hard to convince Ramza the best way to select the best people for the job was a drawn out, brutal gauntlet of challenges and tests that would make even Dirk burst into tears. Ramza was, for all his prodigiousness in battle, a bit of an idiot. The gauntlet alone would have taken half a month, and rerunning it another half! And then, if Zalbaag asked if we were prepared, I could have told him that we would need more time for selection, which would have been totally reasonable, right? We’re just students after all! This simple task could have been stalled out for upwards of <em>two months </em>at minimum, depending on Zalbaag’s goodwill and how willing Ramza was to be dragged along. With the whole month he had given us originally, I might have even managed to get <em>three.</em></p><p>But as always, the headmaster is a slave driver. I sighed mournfully the instant the door closed behind us, my bright future of a long-term delayed mission vanishing in an instant.</p><p>“<em>As clean as the moment you arrived?</em>” Ramza said.</p><p>“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, rolling my eyes as I walked away. “It <em>is.</em>”</p><p>xxx</p><p> </p><p>If you see any glaring flaws, please flame me. I will read all your kind words with a heavy heart and an alcoholic beverage in hand.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Plains Where Beasts Roam.</h2></a>
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      <em>"The Corpse Brigade were a group of men who had started with bright ideals and wondrous intentions, but, like many during that dark period of history, fell easily to vices and cruelty when those beautiful ideals didn't put food on the table…"</em>
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    <p>- <em>A Record of the War of the Lions, by Orran Durai, AU5.</em></p>
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      <em> <strong>Chapter 3: The Plains Where Beasts Roam.</strong> </em>
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    <p>I leaned against my staff, peering across the plains with a hand over my eyes to avoid squinting. I was nervous, obviously. After all, we had never been deployed before, and I myself was as green as the grass we were gazing over. Dirk stood by my side, idly fiddling with his own staff, until I gave him a stern look, at which he saluted sharply and stood straight. I nodded in approval. My squadron had more than a few decent subordinates. Dirk was one of them - a summoner I'd personally beaten into the ground until he understood a simple, satisfactory, fact.</p>
    <p>The one who ruled the battlefield was the one with the most firepower. Mages were, in almost all scenarios, barring freaks like Ramza and holy knights, the kings of the battlefield. A time mage such as myself was a frustration, and a black mage was like the devil. But a <em>summoner?</em></p>
    <p>Summoners were god. A team of five of them could completely wipe the floor with almost any combatants they ran across, barring Arithmeticians, through pure firepower alone. Summoner spells differentiated between allies and enemies if you didn't spellcrack, which wasn't something particularly common in the first place. Spellcracking in general was just dangerous - overloading mana into your casting would invariably make it uncontrollable. And a summon was already difficult to control as it was. Dirk was my pride and joy, a summoner who was learning to <em>fly. </em>If I had five of him, I wouldn't even bat an eye when fighting Ramza's squadron.</p>
    <p>Too bad he wasn't very good at it. Five feet off the ground, Dirk? Really? That's just pathetic, isn't it? I can teleport higher then you can fly! Isn't that a bit embarrassing for you as a mage?</p>
    <p>"Dirk," I said, glancing to my left. The brown haired boy's hand immediately flew up into a salute, which pleased me greatly. I had worked excessively hard to make my subordinates into the perfect soldiers (to protect me from harm), so their ability to instantly listen was a pleasure to witness. "Status report."</p>
    <p>"Nothing but clear skies, Degurechaff," he said in reply, scratching the half grown stubble on his chin. "It's quiet on the plains today."</p>
    <p>I clicked my tongue in annoyance. Quiet was good, but we were looking for the Corpse Brigade. I wanted to finish this as swiftly as possible so as to go back to my warm bed at the Academy, where I could continue crafting the building blocks to my safe future. But, this was an order from a superior - albeit a future superior, not a current one - and I had no way to realistically <em>refuse </em>the Knight Devout. Even Ramza, his brother, wouldn't have been able to turn down that order. If Ondoria Atkascha was our CEO, then Zalbaag Beoulve was the one in charge of hiring. To refuse a request from such a high level superior would be completely damning to my future career; totally unacceptable.</p>
    <p>"Is it usually this empty here?" I asked, turning towards Ramza and Delita, who were staring out at the plains themselves. "I can hear the wind hissing through my teeth."</p>
    <p>"No," Delita replied quietly, hand gripping his sword. "There's usually at least a few chocobos around, if not a coeurl or seven."</p>
    <p>That was the answer I was afraid he would give.</p>
    <p>"Where are the scouts?"</p>
    <p>"Lily's making her way back," Ramza said, pointing to a faint spot in the distance. "But she's… moving a bit fast, isn't she?"</p>
    <p>"I can't see her. Oy, Finn, get over here and put me on your shoulders. Your freakish height has to be good for <em>something.</em>"</p>
    <p>The dragoon grumbled something under his breath, but did as he was told, lifting me up and giving me a better view of de Floure as she ran. I let mana flow into my eyes, feeling a slight pulsing sensation as I did so that I proceeded to ignore as I zoomed in my vision.</p>
    <p>She <em>was</em>. Lily de Floure was Ordallian by lineage, but born and bred in Ivalice. She was also a chronic slacker; Amelie Tenevere had roused the girl from bed every day since we'd joined the academy. She was one of the few truly competent people in Ramza's squadron, next to Tenevere and Delita of course. Trained in fencing since she could walk, de Floure was a devil with a rapier, in spite of her absurd talent with white magic. But I had never, in all my time with the girl, seen her move with such ridiculous speed. Was she actually sprinting? She didn't even sprint away from summons! She just cast some sort of weird guard spell and fell asleep on her feet most of the time!</p>
    <p>"Rally the troops!" I barked, my hand splitting the air as I hopped back down to the ground. The tension that had been building was cut like a knife, Dirk and Delita scrambled to follow my orders. "Look at the figures behind her! She's not <em>running, </em>she's being <em>chased!</em>"</p>
    <p>The auburn haired girl standing near Delita clasped her hands as she watched de Floure, which I could sympathize with. Tenevere had been with the girl since they were barely old enough to walk, so to see her in such danger… Even I could empathize with such a trustworthy subordinate. I put a hand on her shoulder, reaching up to grasp at it. The girl looked down at me and I smiled at her. She did not return it, but her eyes were determined.</p>
    <p>"Keep it together Tenevere," I said, and her eyes narrowed, but she didn't reply. "There's a dozen troops after her, running straight into our own. Dirk! Start preparing. I don't give a damn if you have to crack the spell to get it ready! You too Tenevere!"</p>
    <p>Tenevere smiled like death ran at her heels.</p>
    <p>"It's a nice day, isn't it, Degurechaff?" she said, her hands moving to her back to remove her staff. Her dark red hair shone brightly in the light, and she gave me a grim smile as her eyes began to shine with mana. The sun was reaching its apex in the sky, and the heat beat down on my leather jerkin, the metal blades at my sides feeling entirely too close to my skin. "Let's go and kill them."</p>
    <p>The two summoners began to chant, the words in a language that was close enough to Latin to be easily confused for it. I didn't really bother with summoning in general. There were more destructive ways to maneuver around the battlefield, and I had six of them strapped to my sides.</p>
    <p>Ramza was watching grimly, his sword already drawn and held in a death's grip. I stood next to him, staring at de Floure as she sprinted, putting in more effort than I'd ever seen her before.</p>
    <p>"Wipe that grim look off your face Beoulve," I said to him, and his face turned down to look at me. His eyes were hard and cold, but his hand was too tense to be of value. "Look at the sun, beating down on them. They're wearing plate and chain, and we're wearing cloth and leather. Who do you think is more tired? Who do you think is feeling the aches and pains of the day running through their bodies? Us or them?"</p>
    <p>"You're lighthearted before battle, Degurechaff," he said, that grim look never leaving his eyes. "What we were doing before was mere practice. This…"</p>
    <p>He held his sword up, and the sun glinted off the steel, reflecting his eye in the blade.</p>
    <p>"This is <em>dangerous</em> work. Noble, yes, but dangerous."</p>
    <p>"Perhaps we'll receive hazard pay when we arrive at Eagrose," I said with a grin. "Think you can convince your brother to give us a little bonus?"</p>
    <p>"Dycedarg didn't even pull the pursestrings for <em>Alma, </em>and he <em>likes </em>her. He'll tell us what we need to know and send us away with the clothes on our backs."</p>
    <p>"Your family's a bit cruel, aren't they?"</p>
    <p>"They're nobles, Degurechaff," he said with a weary look in his eyes. "They're <em>all </em>cruel."</p>
    <p>"You're noble yourself, you know," I muttered, fiddling with one of the swords strapped to my sides. "Aren't you calling yourself cruel there?"</p>
    <p>Ramza clenched his fist.</p>
    <p>"If it is cruel to believe in a better world," he whispered, his words nearly lost to the wind, "Then I suppose I am the cruelest man in Ivalice."</p>
    <p>I didn't have a reply to that one. Sometimes, Ramza said things that made him seem far older and wiser than his age. We stood in silence, watching as Lily de Floure ran closer and closer, until we could see her blonde hair flapping wildly as she grabbed onto her hat, sprinting as fast as she could.</p>
    <p>"Wall!" Ramza roared, his sword held high in his hand. "Infantry, forward! Mages, prepare to release on Degurechaff's order!"</p>
    <p>A flurry of movement started around me, as the melee fighters formed a barricade in front of myself, Tenevere, Dirk, and the other two mages in our company. While there was a small space in the line for de Floure to slip through - Ramza <em>was </em>a bit too kind to his subordinates, after all - this wall of flesh before me was <em>exactly </em>why I had decided to become a mage! Look at all the wonderful bodies between me and the enemy! Even if they were all to fall, I would still have more than enough time to flee as fast as my legs would allow. Please, my comrades, become a shield of meat between me and the enemy. I assure you, your deaths will not be forgotten, for I will remember you for a hundred years. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath as I focused myself for the coming engagement.</p>
    <p>Magic is simple. I drew the well of power from deep within my body - carefully, carefully, not taking too much, not taking too little - letting the sink of magic pour a little bit of its water up through my chest and down my arm, feeling that tingling sensation as my staff greedily sucked it up, flicking through a list in my mind. I <em>twisted </em>it, reversing the flow into my arm and then sending it back into my staff, until the energy slowed to a crawl, a thin line of connection between me and the staff that I pointed at the enemy. They were closing in.</p>
    <p>"Hold," I said in a calm tone, despite the danger.</p>
    <p>The men drew closer still. I could see the panic in our precious comrade's eyes now as she sprinted, and the bloodlust in the eyes of the men behind her.</p>
    <p>"Hold!"</p>
    <p>Lily <em>burst </em>through a series of rocks, and I grinned like the devil.</p>
    <p>My mana poured from the staff like a sieve, as I built a box made of time around those rocks. The flow of time would almost seem to freeze for a person passing through, and as the first of their men burst through it, I could see his confusion and horror as his body slowed to a crawl.</p>
    <p>"<strong>LOOSE!</strong>"</p>
    <p>I let out a burst of laughter as our enemies were trapped behind my screen of time, watching with shining eyes when Tenevere's titan of fire with a head shaped like a devil burst into existence. The flames in its eyes sent sparks flying while it plastered the ground with waves of fire.</p>
    <p>This was exactly why I never bothered with summoning. While destructive, who is going to be focused in this fight, exactly? While my time box is assuredly annoying, it's not incredibly dangerous; it can be avoided, it can be moved out of, and it wears off. That god of the battlefield we call 'Espers' can't be outlasted, they simply destroy. I could already see the fury and hate in the eyes of our enemies, as they sent glares like daggers towards Dirk and Tenevere. Kufufu, aren't I smart? Even though it was thanks to my box that they could even be hit, all their hatred and anger isn't directed towards me, but towards others!</p>
    <p>Time magic really was the best. Because it was unassuming, nobody would ever pay attention to me! Like any good HR manager, my support would allow my comrades to succeed and excel, securing me a promotion to a respectable and safe position. I hummed a little tune as I let the mana flow again, preparing a carpet of time for Ramza and the infantry to rush down to meet the enemy.</p>
    <p>Ramza looked at me, and I raised an eyebrow in response. I waved him off with my free hand, I was practically <em>drenched </em>in mana, and to control time required far more precision than waving around an idiotic sword. He let out a bark of laughter, pulling a spear off his back in his free hand as he held it high.</p>
    <p>"Well? What are you lot standing here for? Degurechaff prepared for us such a brilliant road - let's make good use of it!"</p>
    <p>And they were off, their speed increasing rapidly as they charged down my carpet of time, and I let out a sigh of relief. With that, my part in the battle was, for the most part, done. It was unlikely that any of the enemy could make it past Delita and Finn, let alone <em>Ramza. </em>While Tenevere and Dirk would have to keep casting, I had a much more difficult job-</p>
    <p>-Doing absolutely nothing, of course! Having already laid down the path to victory and boxed in the enemy, I could sit back, relax, and watch everyone else do the heavy lifting now! I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out with a bright, wide smile before glancing at the summoners besides me. Both were concentrating deeply - I didn't want to interrupt them, not when Ramza and the infantry were so close to the enemy already, so I supposed the proper thing to do would be to wait around aimlessly, having accomplished the tasks assigned to me by the superior known as the 'battlefield' with ease. While some would feel uncomfortable doing nothing while others fought for their lives, those people are fools. If you have competent subordinates and competent coworkers, when your tasks for the day are completed, obviously you are allowed a refreshing break while they accomplish their own. As my box of time wouldn't fade before the battle ending, there was really nothing left for me to do but sit back and watch everyone else do the dirty work.</p>
    <p>Go forth, my wonderful comrades. Slay our enemies before they can even process the concept that those fine sorcerers back here are the monsters they must slay before all else.</p>
    <p>As bandits, they should have understood the basic principles of the free market - that their services are only valuable if someone desires to purchase them. The economics behind being a criminal are nonsensical; at the point where one is good enough to make a living off of crime, then one would become a known criminal; such as the Corpse Brigade themselves. Criminals, naturally, do not desire to be known far and wide. This is something that is useful for a band of mercenaries, or a group of knight cadets, as they will invariably acquire more, better paying work for their efforts. But banditry?</p>
    <p>I get that it's a medieval world, so fundamentally banditry and knighthood are the same thing, but you're being way too obvious about which side of the game you're playing on! You're a black company with terrible PR, why would anyone ever want to hire you as contractors?!</p>
    <p>"I'll gut you, you damned mages!"</p>
    <p>The bloodthirsty words sliced through my reverie like a knife through butter, and my eyes flicked to the side, where a cadre of squires and thieves had broken through our infantry. Ramza, what the devil are you doing over there? You let four people through! Are you off your game today or something?! I've thrown eight men at you before and you cut through them as if they weren't even there!</p>
    <p>Reaching to one of the swords at my side, I tried to flick the blade out of its sheath with my thumb. Wait a minute, where's the sword? Why's it so long anyways?! Do you really need a sword that's twice your height in the first place, you stupid samurai!?</p>
    <p>Whatever. I gave up on pulling the damn thing out of its sheath, instead choosing to treat it like a coffee cup that I could fill with mana. This stupidly elegant weapon was from a more civilized age; the ripples that ran up and down the sword were delicate and fine, like water flowing through a river. I didn't really care how it looked, though; the entire point of swords were to be used.</p>
    <p>I couldn't move faster than light, but I drenched my body in mana once more, and vanished for a moment, reappearing in the center of the four men.</p>
    <p>"Legendary sword that kills freely," I whispered, a taint of red bursting from the sheathe. The sword began to shake with pressure as I spoke, words of power that it didn't truly know sending it into a frenzy. "<em>Ashura.</em>"</p>
    <p>A flash of red burst above my head, as the quartet attacking were carved by the unseen blades of the far east, the sword creating dozens of slashes that greedily carved their blood from their bodies without a care. It was fortunate that this power could somehow differentiate between friend and foe, and a high-pitched burst of laughter exited my lungs as my enemies fell around me. It was just so simple, in the end, that was my problem with it; this world glorified combat to such a ridiculous extent that it was impossible to avoid. But the tools that they had available to them were patently absurd - and with the high of mana running through my body how could I not enjoy myself? I was jumped up like I'd drank fifteen cups of coffee, I couldn't help but laugh.<br/><br/>The energy from the weapon reaching a fever pitch before it shattered in its sheath. I dropped the hilt to the ground, automatically shuffling the now useless sheathe to my back, another one moving up in its place. This was the only bad part of iaido - how damnably expensive it could be. While it was fine for students; after all, I hadn’t purchased a single one of the katanas strapped to my person, I had briefly glanced at the catalogue when I’d entered the armory, and my eyes had nearly bulged out of their sockets. 8000 gil for a single sword?! I could outfit an entire person with 8000 gil! If their effects weren’t so useful I would have never bothered, but martial prowess had nothing to do with the energies of the far east. A magician could utilize them with far more competency, even if he or she had little to no melee skill whatsoever.</p>
    <p>It was my last resort, after all - an explosion of magical power that could tear through enemies that had the audacity to move past the front lines. The bodies at my feet proved that it was the right decision to practice.</p>
    <p>"Why are you looking at me Dirk, Tenevere? Focus your spells! Do you want Heiral and Beoulve to steal all the glory for themselves?"</p>
    <p>The two summoners had been shamelessly slacking off and watching what I was up to when we were approached, as if they had <em>time </em>to slack off. Unlike me, their spells were incredibly destructive, and if they had such time to observe what I was up doing, then they had time to cast. Dirk turned away, his eyes flickering with lightning as began to cast, while Tenevere stammered out an apology before turning away herself. I approved, going back to watching the battle wrap up with a bright smile. Having such competent coworkers was so nice!</p>
    <p>Ramza hefted a blood-covered spear in the air with a roar, and shouts of joy intermixed with cries of despair. The battle was over, and I didn't even have a scratch on me. Hopefully all future interactions with the enemy will be exactly like this!</p>
    <p>The infantry walked back towards us, and my magic dissipated, my carpet and box vanishing as if they were never really 'there'. Not that they were in the first place; time magic was invisible to the eye after all. If one could detect magic, they might be able to see it, but it's not as if that was a common skill picked up by infantry. Sure, Ramza could do it, but what <em>couldn't </em>that idiot prodigy do?</p>
    <p>"So," Delita said with a bloody grin, as he approached, his hand-and-a-half sword resting on his shoulder, "What are your thoughts on actual combat, Degurechaff?"</p>
    <p>"I was surprised."</p>
    <p>"Surprised?" He cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes staring into my blue. "At what?"</p>
    <p>"How easy it was." There was a flash of emotion in his eyes I couldn't decipher as Ramza let out a shaky breath.</p>
    <p>"As was I," he murmured, looking at the blood covering his blade. The red splattering his spear dripped down the wooden shaft, his blue shirt looking more maroon than anything else. "Men are truly fragile, are they not?"</p>
    <p>Neither of us had any reply to that. I grunted, tapping my staff to the ground.</p>
    <p>"None of that now, Beoulve," I said, and his eyes looked away from the sword towards me. "There are still men out there. Pick one to interrogate."</p>
    <p>"And the rest?"</p>
    <p>"Are they not bandits who were after our lives? Who gives a damn what happens to them?"</p>
    <p>I smiled, and Delita's eyes grew sharp.</p>
    <p>
      <em>"Leave them for the crows."</em>
    </p>
    <p>xxx</p>
    <p>Tanya is just misunderstood, I don't understand why people think she's such a maniac - Ramza probably</p>
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  <p> </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>XXX</p><p>
  <em>"A man is only worth as much as his word, Lord Beoulve. What good is the word of a liar?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Duke Larg, a letter to Dycedarg Beoulve. Unknown date.</em>
</p><p>X</p><p>X</p><p>X</p><p>
  <em>Chapter 4: Lies, Trickery, and Nobility.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The breeze was refreshing as we marched at a care-free pace towards Eagrose Castle, our prisoner in hand, if a bit annoying. He'd been whining about the 'unfairness' of society, and how we would 'rue the day' that we had dared to mess with the Corpse Brigade. This was, of course, before Delita had kicked him in the shins and told him to give it a rest as he'd been at it since we'd set up camp, and it was now long past time for bed.</p><p>I let out a yawn, covering my mouth and rubbing my bleary eyes in the crisp morning air. The closer we got to the castle, the more the air cooled down, leaving my body feeling lighter than it usually did.</p><p>"Oh, Tanya!" I moved my arm viciously against my eyes, blinking twice before peering at whoever was speaking to me. Brown eyes stared back at me, attached to a short bob of blonde hair and a lithe face that smiled brightly. "Did you get any coffee or anything? I'm pretty sure de Floure made some before we set out."</p><p>"Vinya. No," I said with a mournful sigh, looking longingly at the cup in Vinya's hands. "Barrel and Voll drank it all before I could get a cup."</p><p>"Not all of it!" Vinya's hands revealed what she was holding - a mug of that sweet, delicious ambrosia known as 'Ordallian Coffee'. "I managed to snag some before Caim drank it all."</p><p>"You're on a first name basis with Voll now?"</p><p>"Only temporarily~" she said in a sing-song tone, smiling bright and wide. "I beat him at cards last night, so he's my minion for a week."</p><p>I gave Vinya a wary look as I eyed her coffee.</p><p>"Alright, I'll bite," I muttered, never taking my eyes off it. "What do you want for it?"</p><p>"I want a deferral on training."</p><p>"A deferral? For how long?"</p><p>Vinya blinked, looking at me in shock. I wasn't a slave driver or anything, so I couldn't really understand her confusion. The training regime for my squadron was pretty easy, in my humble opinion - before class, for an hour, after class, for two hours. To a corporate slave like myself, this barely even marked as extra work - I made sure everyone would be at dinner and at breakfast, and gave them plenty of free time outside of that! Beyond that, I had browbeat Ramza into only bringing people that were truly competent on this little adventure of his, so I wasn't particularly <em>worried </em>if Vinya would lose her skill or need a remedial class.</p><p>"How long… How long…" The girl muttered to herself, looking left and right. "Two months? No, a month! A week? A day is more than enough I think! No, just half a day, maybe…?"</p><p>I sighed.</p><p>"I'll give you a week." Vinya gave a quiet cheer in response, smiling brightly at me. "Now give me the damn coffee."</p><p>She extended her mug and I grabbed it out of her hands, drinking it greedily as she gave me a worried look.</p><p>"You know, Tanya… If you drink that much coffee…"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Well, I mean… You're not very… tall, as it is…"</p><p>I glared at her.</p><p>Vinya walked away.</p><p>I took a sip, thinking on how ideal my school life had been so far. My coworkers and subordinates were all either nobility or connected to nobility, which was <em>perfect</em> for moving up the proverbial corporate ladder without actually doing anything. In this sort of medieval society, nepotism was not only expected, but arguably the standard. If you were competent, even better - this was why I made sure to have cordial to positive relationships with most of the people around me, as opposed to anything actively antagonistic. Vinya Villipede was the daughter of a merchant in Gallione who had paid a handsome sum to have his progeny attend Gariland. Unlike myself, she could have lived a life in the lap of luxury, but her father desired better connections to the ruling class. It wasn't luck or fortune that put Vinya in the same class as Ramza Beoulve, Finn Weiss, Lily de Floure, and Amelie Tenevere - it was the desire for increased power. The Villipedes sold and traded fine wines and luxury goods from places like Ordallia; and who would be the biggest purchasers of Villipede's products ten or fifteen years down the line?</p><p>The exact same nobility that she's integrating herself with now. I admired her mercurial nature deeply, and desired to achieve something similar for myself. The connections I was forming now would serve me deep into adulthood, in spite of all of Being X's attempts to stop me! Look at who surrounds me now, you damned devil! In spite of all your desperate attempts to make my life hell, I am now in the company of the elite! As long as I maintain a basic level of competency, there would be no reason for a person like Ramza or Finn to <em>not </em>hire me in some sort of advisory role for the future!</p><p>I smiled as I drank my coffee, confident in the knowledge that even if there <em>was </em>to be some sort of inevitable war, the economics of such a conflict would secure me a safe future.</p><p>"Finn," I said loudly, and the dragoon turned away from his conversation with Voll a bit behind me, "How's the prisoner?"</p><p>"A bit annoying," he replied as he approached me, scratching the stubble on his chin. His brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, and the spear on his back had a small banner tied to it; his house's coat of arms. "He doesn't seem to wish to cooperate with any sort of information."</p><p>"That's why we're headed to Eagrose," I said. "We're simple cadets, in the end. Even if we're given this grand task, it is the job of our superiors to <em>find </em>out what we are supposed to do."</p><p>Secretly, I was pleased. The longer it would take the men at Eagrose to uncover whatever the Corpse Brigade was plotting, the longer I could idle my days away at such a wondrous castle. I'd heard stories of the gardens at Eagrose, of how beautiful the capital of Gallione was said to be. Lazing my days away in the sun and pursuing the books of their grand library sounded like a dream come true - a dream that I had been saving until after graduation, brought about many months earlier! I hadn't even needed to ask Ramza to be invited, it was just assumed! Is this the power of nepotism, already in action?</p><p>Ahh… I can see why people craved a friend in the elite so desperately. It really made life easy.</p><p>"You're content to just let the Brigade run wild?" He asked as he looked at me with dark eyes. "They've already taken Dorter and given it to the rats."</p><p>"You cannot cull cruelty by killing rats, Finn," I said to admonish my subordinate. "Our mission is to end the <em>Brigade, </em>not to kill men and women with nothing to their names. Is it not easier to kill a hydra by cutting off its heads?"</p><p>He barked out a laugh, and I smiled at him. Finn was not hard to understand. His family had been decimated at the end of the last war, and his desires to live up to the standards they had set ran deep through his veins.</p><p>"Those damned rats have been thieving from <em>mine, </em>Tanya," he said quietly, his eyes filled with a deep rage as he glanced over at our prisoner. The man had to be practically <em>dragged </em>half this way, and he was single-handedly slowing down our march by an hour, if not more. "I want them dead and buried before they take another gil from my people."</p><p>"And they will be," I assured him. "Are you being difficult on purpose? Look how easily they fell to our band. Such creatures are not worth the money it would take to outfit them."</p><p>He grunted in reply, and we fell into a companionable silence. While ostensibly correct, Finn had that worm called "justice" coiled itself firm around his heart. He cared too much, and gave too easily, which would be problematic for his future if he didn't learn to curb those tendencies in favor of being more reasonable. As his superior, it was my job to soften the heavy blows of reality.</p><p>"If we cut off the head of the movement, the movement will fall, and the organized banditry will collapse once more to petty theft," I said to him. "I suspect we will be done before Virgo at the latest."</p><p>"Planning to finish before your birthday, Tanya?"</p><p>I chuckled, and Finn's mouth curved upwards. It was good to have a rapport with your subordinates, as otherwise they would easily fall into disarray. A competent superior cannot allow his or her subordinates to become too moody, or their work will suffer. And as our work is to hunt down the Corpse Brigade, I simply could not have Finn in anything but his best shape.</p><p>"If we do, are you going to pay for my party?"</p><p>"Hah! I'll leave that to Beoulve. He's far more desperate to impress you than I."</p><p>Impress me? That certainly wasn't the impression <em>I </em>was getting from Ramza. But Finn probably had a different perspective then I, as he was good friends with Voll.</p><p>"Well, make sure to mark this down for Beoulve then - at my party, I want a cake that's as tall as I am."</p><p>Finn chuckled, ruffling my hair as I looked up at him mulishly. I was used to being far taller, so to be reminded of my stature in such a way was never fun.</p><p>"Don't worry," he said with a smile. "I'll be sure to tell him."</p><p>Our march continued at a leisurely pace. The closer we got to Eagrose, the more Ramza's and Delita's faces seemed to lighten, as if a weight was being lifted off their shoulders that I couldn't see. The worry in their eyes disappeared when we saw the outskirts of Gallione's capital; that enormous banner depicting his house's coat of arms taking away all the stress and grime of the march from him. He waved to the guard when we approached the gate, and a burst of laughter emitted from him before he opened it, shouting out something I couldn't hear over the sound of the gate's movement.</p><p>Eagrose castle town was <em>alive. </em>The streets were bustling with people, and as our feet marched across the long cobblestone roads I heard cheers of joy as women and men looked at our merry band, waving excitedly as we walked alone. The shopkeepers leaned out and laughed, women looked at us with fluttering eyelashes, and men nodded in stern approval at our gait. I could definitely get used to this. Ramza, after graduation, would you mind so terribly if I followed you home? I'm good at a lot of different things! You could really use someone like me in an advisory position where I don't have to do too much, alright!</p><p>Honestly, I was more impressed with Dycedarg's PR than I was with the town. There wasn't any sort of widespread way to disseminate information here, but it was clear that the propaganda surrounding Ramza was out of control. Despite the brick walls and stone arches, I could see the signs of poverty out of the corner of my eye, but even those unlucky few were so very <em>pleased </em>to see the return of the latest Beoulve prodigy. A woman approached us, grabbing at Ramza's shirt, and he rummaged around in his pockets for coins before handing her a few. The cheers that erupted at that…</p><p>Ramza, do you know how many people would die for you? It's terrifying.</p><p>The castle closed in faster than I expected, the crowds thinning out and the rough stone smoothing away to a finer road. Trees lined the way to the castle, and as I looked up at it, my eyes widened. Long gray spires stretched out over mottled stone walls, ivy slowly clambering up the sides. The castle sat on top of a winding road that led up to a cliff, which overlooked a vast lake far below it. The castle itself was enclosed in fine, large walls, topped with a vicious looking fence of iron spikes, and a gate made of the same stood in front of us. Delita let out an aggrieved sigh as we stopped in front of it, giving Ramza a look.</p><p>"<em>Ramza, </em>you did remember to tell Lord Dycedarg we were on our way, correct?" Delita said with an annoyed tone, glancing at the blonde.</p><p>Ramza blinked. "Ah. I knew I forgot something."</p><p>Everyone let out a groan.</p><p>"Way to go, Ramza."</p><p>"Beoulve, do you have to think when you breathe?"</p><p>"I wanted to relax, but now we're stuck out here…"</p><p>"Calm down, calm down," he said, laughing. "It is not as if we're stuck here. This gate isn't exactly…"</p><p>He leaned against it with his shoulder, shoving forward as he looked at Delita, jerking his head. The auburn haired boy sighed, moving up against it as well.</p><p>"See, you just… Have to… Get it <em>juuuuust </em>right, and-"</p><p>The gate moved slowly, with an agonizingly long creaking sound that made me look at the pulpits for archers. This was risky, wasn't it? What if there was anyone who didn't know us here, Ramza! We'd be filled with arrows and burned to a crisp before we could say 'actually, he lives here'! Consider your surroundings before committing to something, okay?!</p><p>"-There!" He let out a long breath, smiling brightly. "Come in. Welcome to Eagrose."</p><p>I squeezed past him through the gate, looking around idly. Large hedges filled with flowers lined a walkway towards the wooden castle doors, with statues of men and women who I assumed were previous Beoulves standing in various positions along the way. As our band walked forward, the door slowly creaked open, and a man with orange hair and a beard began making our way towards us. He wore a dark robe, with fine gold lining, and at his belt rested a sword. He smiled broadly as we approached, holding a glass of wine in his hand.</p><p>"Ramza," he said, in a voice that was rough and posh. An aristocrat to the core was the thought I had upon seeing him. "So the conquering hero returns, does he?"</p><p>"Brother!" Ramza said with a bow, dipping his head low. "I come bearing a gift for you."</p><p>Caim kicked the brigand forward, and the man staggered to his knees as he glared hatefully up at Dycedarg Beoulve. The man looked at him with calm eyes, before a small smile came to his face and he looked at Ramza with approval.</p><p>"I see I was right to put you in charge of this," he said as he put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Your results are coming even faster than I expected, Ramza."</p><p>"It was not me alone, Lord Brother," Ramza said, his eyes flicking towards me. I had been standing in the back, being as unassuming as possible. With my short height, it was easy for me to fade into the background; especially when surrounded by people with such presence. "Without the aid of our squadron-"</p><p>"Aye, your squadron is quite impressive," Dycedarg said before taking a step back. "I've heard tales of their prowess on the battlefield."</p><p>His eyes zeroed onto me, and I stared back with a resolute gaze. As he looked, guards approached, grabbing the prisoner and dragging him away. The man screeched something awful; loud and pleading noises of mercy that he wouldn't receive. It was to be expected, naturally - even the most minor member of a black company would end up tarnished and damned once his company's crimes were uncovered. This was the problem with criminal behavior in general - it would always come back to bite you.</p><p>"And I suppose the commander that you've been attempting to surpass is here as well?" He said, looking me in the eye. It felt like his gaze bored into my soul, and I tried to show my best side, standing straight and meeting his eyes with my own. "I've seen reports of her… intriguing, ways of engaging in combat."</p><p>"Aye." Ramza replied as he glanced at me with confusion. "Degurechaff has been a great aid to me. If you had ten of her Lord Brother-"</p><p>He's talking me up! He's talking me up! I could almost <em>sing</em>, I was so pleased! This was it, wasn't it?! This was the interview I had been so desperately hoping for since the moment I'd entered the academy! I knew that nepotism would work out in my favor! From rags to riches, Being X, that's what I'll be able to do here! Your devious attempts to pull me from the path to comfort will never succeed - I'll be able to secure my safety in under fifteen minutes now! I'd interviewed many people desperate for work before, so this interview should be a breeze; even if he was someone from the parent company, that's even better - while the Order of the Northern Sky is nice and all, isn't it better to be working for the person who <em>owns </em>the Order, instead of the order itself?! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and Ramza just threw it into my lap!</p><p>Having friends in high places <em>did </em>pay off. My safe and comfortable advisory position, I can already feel it solidifying.</p><p>"A single prodigy does not change the fate of the country, Ramza," Dycedarg replied, never taking his eyes off mine. "What could Miss Degurechaff offer to me, that I would ever need?"</p><p>It wasn't a question for Ramza. It was a question for me. This was the interview, where I had to show my best side and minimize my faults so that way I could secure my future.</p><p>"Consider, Miss Degurechaff," he said, beckoning me forward, and I followed. He walked towards one of the statues, examining it. It was a woman, holding a spear and a sword, her eyes gazing upwards. On her shoulder was an eagle, and a banner flowed from the tip of her spear, bearing the Beoulve house of arms. "The Romandan Knot."</p><p>The Romandan Knot was a classic tale of Ivalice. Many years ago, Romanda and Fovoham were trapped in a vicious set of conflicts, waging minor skirmishes and battles across the Rhana strait for many years. The issue was, however, that both nations had set up small towns on either side; neither could advance without the risk of crushing innocents in the midst of their battles. Most of the war was fought on ships and over open seas; hence the knot of dozens of lines of ships, dragging out the conflict for months.</p><p>It was my favorite. Could you imagine how peaceful such a conflict would be? I hoped and prayed that if war broke out and I was forced into battle, I would participate in such a long-staged series of battles. The Romandan Knot lasted six months, with neither side making any advances or retreating in any way, before both ended up quietly giving up.</p><p>"What of it?"</p><p>We continued walking, further and further away from the rest. I looked back, and Ramza gave me an encouraging smile, before turning away as Amelie grabbed his arm, dragging him from his spot towards something that I couldn't see. Dycedarg continued walking, stopping at another statue, this one of a man holding an axe.</p><p>"How would <em>you </em>shorten the conflict?"</p><p>Shorten it? I had ideas to lengthen it, but shorten? I paused for a moment, thinking seriously. Naturally, it was important to always put your best foot forward, especially in the midst of an interview. Rhana Strait was fairly large in size - it had to be, to fit so many ships. The solution had to exist, I just had to uncover it.</p><p>"By how long should it be shortened?"</p><p>He arched an eyebrow at me, and I flushed. No more questions then. This was already going fairly smoothly, I didn't want to ruin it. He was interested, as opposed to offended. While there was a limit to what an introduction to such a high-level superior could offer, I'd heard what Zalbaag had said. I wasn't stupid. Ramza had been talking about me to his family. I'd thought him an idiot, but he'd been <em>profiling </em>me, and sending those reports to his family. I'd already passed the pre-interview, this was just the finishing touches.</p><p>How to shorten it? I attacked the problem like I attacked any problem a superior gave me when I was working as an HR manager; by looking at it from their point of view. The issue with the Romandan Knot was that it had taken much of Fovoham's forces away from the skirmishes breaking out near their borders, as this had been during the unification period. Fovoham had bent the knee far too easily for an independent state, and that was assuredly because they couldn't afford to put the men they needed there due to the Romandan Knot.</p><p>"It's simple, isn't it?" I said eventually, staring at the axe. "There's an easy solution to cut the knot in half."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"Yes," I looked at Dycedarg with a brilliant smile. "A small unit could cross the strait with ease. Two black mages, one summoner - perhaps an arithmetician. Once there, they would simply burn the town to the ground. Without the benefit of supplies, the Romandan forces would withdraw."</p><p>Kufufu, aren't I such an impressive subordinate, Dycedarg? I can see in your eyes that you approve of my plan, as any rational person would. While the loss of civilian lives would be a tragedy, it would be an acceptable tragedy - in a time of war, one must first focus on their own nation before caring for the population of others. With the unification war breaking out on their borders, Fovoham would not be able to ignore it for long because of something as pesky as nobility. For the glory of the nation - especially a medieval one, where things like 'war crimes' or more of an afterthought then something that people care for - you must be willing to take any action, at any cost.</p><p>"That," Dycedarg said, with an approving nod, "Is the conclusion that I came to as well. Miss Degurechaff…"</p><p>He looked me in the eye, taking a sip of his wine. The winds were quiet here, like a whisper in the back of my ears, and the marble statues glinted as the sun began to drop in the sky.</p><p>"How would you care to be my voice when you graduate?"</p><p>I kneeled before him. Ramza had opened the door, but I'd passed this interview with flying colors.</p><p>"My Lord, it would be an <em>honor.</em>"</p><p>xxx</p><p>For those waiting for Tanya to interact with others, it is here! I was mainly having her interact with Delita/Ramza because I know people dislike OCs, and I kind of had to fill the list of 'generics', for lack of a better word. I hope that you guys enjoy Tanya and Ramza's generics, as most of them are lifted directly from my various FFT playthroughs, with minor edits to their names. I'm sorry, Dirk Hardpecks, but you are no longer a tiamat that breathes death down on my enemies. Semiramis could not make it either, much to my dismay.</p><p>I hope you enjoyed the words! Happy holidays, everyone!</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Honor among Thieves</h2></a>
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    <p>xxx</p><p>
  <em>"Elmdor has grown foolish and lazy after the war. He wishes to play at insurrection? Then show him the price of his arrogance."</em>
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  <em>-Unknown man to Gustav Margriff, overheard by Milleuda Folles.</em>
</p><p>xxx</p><p>
  <em>Chapter 5: Honor among Thieves</em>
</p><p>Eagrose Castle was brilliant. Every day, we woke as the sun made its slow climb towards its apex in the sky, and broke bread with one another in a hall so opulent that I was left dazed. Lush carpets of red, trimmed with gold, lined the floors, and smooth stone bricks crafted fine walls that were lined with blades and banners. I spent much of my time with various books from the library, reading in the gardens or by the lake, exploring the deeper intricacies of magic that I wouldn't be able to peruse at the Academy.</p><p>Ramza was different here. He drank. He swore. He laughed openly and loudly. He started small arguments with his friends, stole food from the kitchens, and egged Delita on as his friend flirted shamelessly with the maids. He teased his sister, wandered the halls, and looked happier than I'd seen him in all our time at the academy.</p><p>I, on the other hand, lazed in the sun and read books on arcane arts. The sky was crystal clear, fluffy white clouds floating overhead as I rested on a marble bench by a tree and let out a contented sigh. This was the life<em>. </em>These halcyon days had passed by so comfortably I could scarcely believe it. We were still awaiting to see what information the prisoner could give, as he had taken a remarkably long time with getting it out. Please, prisoner, resist as long as you need. The longer you endure what is inflicted upon you, the longer my wondrous vacation lasts.</p><p>Leaning against an oak tree, I watched with a slight smile as Delita's sister - Teta? Tietra? I hadn't had a conversation with her longer than five minutes - looked at her brother training with wide shining eyes as he moved his body slightly out of the way to avoid Amelie's barrage of ice. His body was covered in sweat, but he was still light on his feet, slipping through the spell like it wasn't even there at all.</p><p>"Doing some reading, Tanya?"</p><p>Vinya approached me with a cup of coffee, which I took gratefully before flipping a page in my book.</p><p>"Yes," I said as I took a sip, my eyes scanning the page. "The library here is much better than Gariland's. Did you know their collection includes a treatise on the evolution of holy magic? It's quite a…"</p><p>I turned another page. The book itself was an easy read, but the contents were remarkable. In spite of white magic's known nature as a holy art, it seemed to have evolved from a method of pure deviance. From breaking bones to learn how they worked, to an in-depth examination of anatomy, this book was really opening my eyes to the respectability of white magic. Whoever wrote it was a person to be respected, but the name was so faded I could scarcely read it. Pene-something? Was that a lo or a ro?</p><p>"Fascinating read. And you, Vinya?"</p><p>"I've been training with that new squire - you know, the one that's been begging to see Lord Dycedarg? Blonde, angry, bit too big for his boots? I'm sure he's tracked you and Ramza down - the two of you spend more time with Lord Dycedarg then the rest of us."</p><p>I grimaced. The 'lessons' I'd been receiving from Lord Dycedarg were most assuredly different from Ramza's. I'd asked Dycedarg about it once, and he'd just smiled - a thin, vicious line that made his face concort into something unpleasant - and said that Ramza was exactly like his father.</p><p>"Ah. Him. He does seem a bit…"</p><p>"Annoying? Rude? Cruel?"</p><p>"A bit <em>forward, </em>Vinya," I admonished the girl with a frown. "It is not our place to question what the nobility desire. It is our place to follow through with the orders we have been given."</p><p>"Haaa," she let out a sigh as she flopped down to the ground, watching Delita's sword as he stood still and allowed Amelie's summon of fire to engulf him, before letting out a curse and shouting at the girl to stop, smacking his arm to rid it of a few sparks of flame. "I wonder how much longer these days will last. There's a grim feeling in the castle."</p><p>I hadn't noticed it. But, this sort of thing reminded me of the days directly before my former company had embarked on a massive merger; every employee could feel the tension in the air, the worry that their jobs would be at risk, the fear that our company would be devoured whole - it was an eerie thing, how employees could sense the changing winds in the air. It certainly wouldn't do to ignore the fears of my subordinates because I could not sense it.</p><p>"We'll be setting out soon, then," I said, closing my book as I stood. "Lord Dycedarg likely has another task for us while the interrogation continues, if progress has been so slow."</p><p>"Truly?"</p><p>"Can you imagine that he would allow cadets to laze about his castle for another reason?"</p><p>Vinya paused, blinking as she took a bite of toast, the butter sticking to her lip.</p><p>"I can't say I do," she eventually said with a sigh before standing and arching her back like a cat. "Mmmm! Perhaps Caim or Finn managed to needle more information out of the guards about it. I'll go and ask them. Will we be seeing you at dinner?"</p><p>"Unless Lord Dycedarg has something else for me, I'll see you then."</p><p>The auburn haired girl waved brightly at me as I marched off, searching for this ridiculous squire she had brought to my attention. It wouldn't do to have someone causing worry to Ramza or my subordinates. They already had plenty to worry over; his additions would only bring frustration.</p><p>I walked into the entrance hall, passing by the swords and coats of arms that decorated it, before pressing my face to the training area. The clash of swords and sounds of a curse brought a smug smile to my face, and I opened the door, standing politely at it as I observed.</p><p>A boy with short cropped blonde hair stood at the doorway with me, his foot agitatedly tapping as he watched Ramza and Dycedarg duel with an agitated look on his face, his lips curled in a frown. He nodded curtly at me, before turning his attention back to the duel between brothers.</p><p>"Focus on your mana, Ramza," Dycedarg said as he rested the tip of his sword on the ground. "The magic flows through your heart, down your arm, into your weapon - it is not just an <em>explosion </em>of energy that you can manipulate to your whims. This is not black magic, nor is it white; it is something altogether different, a mixture of bladework and sorcery entwined in one."</p><p>"And yet, all I can do is make it explode!" Ramza said with a wry grin on his face. "If you want to tell someone how to manipulate mana, you should be talking to Degurechaff, not me."</p><p>"Is Degurechaff a Beoulve? Does Degurechaff have the blood of Balbanes the Siegebreaker running through her veins?"</p><p>Dycedarg's sword moved like a snake, a crackling of energy covering it as Ramza's body <em>twisted </em>to avoid it - almost like Delita's had, but the movements were tighter, faster - and his sword hand swirled upwards, a flash of flame burning across the blade before the two blades clashed -</p><p>And, like I had seen so many times before…</p><p>Ramza's shattered.</p><p>"How many weapons do you plan to carry onto the battlefield, Ramza? Ten? Twenty? Thirty? You cannot destroy every weapon you touch, and expect to wield the magic of a holy knight."</p><p>The boy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before he smiled at his brother.</p><p>"Ah, but Lord Brother, you seem to have missed something."</p><p>A glint, by Dycedarg's ribs. As Dycedarg's sword brushed Ramza's neck, so too did Ramza's dagger brush his brother's ribs. Dycedarg looked down, before his eyes grew wide and he barked out a laugh, dropping his sword as he observed his brother with approval.</p><p>"Gariland <em>has </em>changed you, Ramza. Before you were sent off, I had fears that you would die ignobly on a battlefield somewhere."</p><p>"And now?"</p><p>"Now," he clapped his hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "I fear that you will die doing something foolishly noble and dangerous instead. Practice with your mana, we have guests."</p><p>Ramza's eyes flicked towards mine, and he sent me a wink, which I ignored and responded by raising an eyebrow. Stop destroying weapons, Ramza. That's my thing! You can't just steal my gimmick and pretend like I'm not going to notice! I saw how that mana flowed, you idiot! Don't try doing iado techniques like that'll help you learn the ways of the holy sword, they're just going to confuse you!</p><p>"I tell you that the Marquis has been kidnapped, and you stand around practicing techniques with your brother," the blonde said, frustration in his eyes. His tone was cordial, but the way he held himself was far too impolite for the man he was speaking with. "Is this not something of far more import than-"</p><p>"Hold your tongue Algus," Dycedarg said with narrowed eyes, sheathing his sword once more. "You forget yourself in your love for your liege lord."</p><p>"I- yes, Lord Dycedarg," the boy - Algus said, kneeling. I could tell that as a subordinate, he was a bit of a handful. It was fortunate that a competent superior such as Dycedarg was so forgiving; many others would not be. "Forgive me for my frustration."</p><p>"The Marquis has been kidnapped? Truly?" Ramza asked as mana flowed through his body. I glared at him, and he rolled his eyes, redirecting the flow from an all around circuit towards the sword in his hand. "Is there not aught we can do, Lord Brother?"</p><p>"Looking for another assignment Ramza?"</p><p>He flushed, properly chastised as he turned his attention back to his sword, but Dycedarg let out a low chuckle.</p><p>"Aye, Marquis Elmdor has been kidnapped. 'Tis fortunate that your prisoner, while not the most… forthcoming, about the location of the leadership, sang like a bird when it came to what Gustav Margriff has been up to. I have the Marquis' location in hand, if you desire to save him."</p><p>Ramza's eyes lit up, and Algus' mouth dropped open.</p><p>"T-truly? You know where the Marquis is located?"</p><p>"Indeed. But there is no time to form a large force to free him," Dycedarg replied, glancing at the blond squire. "However, a small team…"</p><p>Ahhh. I see where this is going. Damn you Ramza! My vacation is being cut short because of your idiotic desire to help others! Seriously, aren't we supposed to be cadets!? Stop volunteering us for such dangerous positions! You're a noble, aren't you supposed to be self-serving, you bastard?!</p><p>Thinking quickly, I knew the optimal course of action. Ramza was inevitably going to be involved, and if he was involved, he'd get himself killed doing something completely idiotic. Dycedarg wouldn't be pleased if his brother died, so the only solution was to watch him myself. This was just paying back a favor, after all; without Ramza, I would have never been given such an opportunity as to work under Dycedarg in the first place. As a coworker, I couldn't allow such a promising candidate for leadership to die.</p><p>"My men serve at your pleasure, Lord Dycedarg," I said, bowing before Dycedarg. Ramza's face lit up, and Algus turned towards me with confusion. "That is, if Ramza is willing to have them."</p><p>"Degurechaff…" Ramza smiled brilliantly at me, and it made me feel a bit bad that I was only volunteering to save him from himself. "I'd be more than happy to have you at my side."</p><p>"Hm…" Dycedarg's frow burrowed as he looked at me, stroking his beard. "Thadalfus, it appears you have your team for a rescue mission. Depart for the City of Dorter at once. Ramza, get your men together. Miss Degurechaff, a moment if you don't mind."</p><p>Algus saluted, whirling on his feet as he raced out of the room. Ramza followed him, clapping me on the shoulder with a smile as he did so, while I was left in the room alone with Dycedarg once more. He looked at me, walking forward slowly, as his cane tapped the stone floor.</p><p>"The Marquis…" he began, eying me as he spoke, "It would please me if you reminded him who saved him."</p><p>"You say that as if we'll find him unharmed, Lord Dycedarg."</p><p>"The Corpse Brigade is an organization of individuals, Miss Degurechaff. Individuals can be tamed and controlled. It is only when they work as a unit that they are truly dangerous, you see?"</p><p>He walked towards the center of the arena, glancing at the blackened stone where his and Ramza's swords had clashed, before picking up a shattered piece of metal that was once a blade.</p><p>"As long as the Brigade is divided, their goals are meaningless to me. Their accomplishments… holding a single city? Kidnapping a single noble? Such things do not endear them to the populace. You have heard of their desires, yes?"</p><p>I nodded. The Corpse Brigade was known to me, after all - we'd been gifted a truly luxurious way to increase our own rankings in the Order before graduation. With the kidnapping of the Marquise, the Corpse Brigade was no longer a simple annoyance to the people of Gallione; they were now a plague. When it was a simple question of harming commoners, who cares? But the nobility…</p><p>Now, they were a bit too dangerous to be left alone any longer. And so, the hammer known as the Order would come down on them with all the force it had.</p><p>"Free the Marquis. Remind him of his place. And then we shall carve out this pestilence that plagues Gallione with the fires of retribution."</p><p>"Are you planning to tell the people of the kidnapping?"</p><p>"Planning to tell them? Miss Degurechaff, don't be foolish."</p><p>He smiled, a cold thing that made his eyes glint in the light.</p><p>"I have already told people of the Marquis' kidnapping. Zalbaag is on his way back as we speak. No longer shall Gallione suffer this blight of banditry that forces our people inside."</p><p>I shivered. Dycedarg was really forward thinking, wasn't he? Already using the Marquis' kidnapping to disseminate more propaganda… I was grateful I was working under such a competent superior.</p><p>"Collect your men. When the Marquis is free, see to his return to Eagrose. I will have more orders for you when you arrive."</p><p>"Of course, my lord," I said with a bow, turning to exit the room. Dycedarg stood still as I opened the door, still holding the blade.</p><p>"It is funny, though…" he murmured, and I glanced back to see him holding that thin shard of a sword up to the light. "To think that it would not be Zalbaag who is the closest to recreating our lord father's technique, but the youngest of us."</p><p>"My lord?"</p><p>"Do try to make sure Ramza doesn't do anything needlessly foolish, Miss Degurechaff," he said, lost in thought as he stared at the fragment of Ramza's sword. "This sort of technique… It will be more useful than either of us can imagine when war comes once more."</p><p>War? What the devil was Dycedarg talking about? Being X, you bastard! I knew that this country was on the verge of some kind of conflict, but this soon already!? At least let me acquire a safe position before it breaks out! I don't want to be anywhere <em>near </em>the front, do you hear me!</p><p>"War, my lord?"</p><p>"Aye, Miss Degurechaff," he said with a look of sorrow on his face. "It is a regrettable thing, is it not?"</p><p>War was the thing that could elevate those of no status through achievements. In the end, it was the purest form of meritocracy imaginable - even a commoner could become a noble, through war. If I wanted to secure my future, then even such a regrettable conflict…</p><p>I shivered. If Dycedarg still kept me at his side, the thriving power of meritocracy would see me to success in war.</p><p>"A necessary form of regret."</p><p>He looked at me with a strange sort of smile, before inclining his head.</p><p>"Go to Dorter. Show the Corpse Brigade that this play they claim as a righteous war is something far more simple."</p><p>He threw the piece of Ramza's sword in the air, before his blade moved so fast I could barely see it, a shining slice of silver that carved through the air.</p><p>"It is pest control<em>.</em>"</p><p>Where there was once one piece, there were now two.</p><p>I saluted, and left.</p><p>Collecting the men was easy enough, Ramza and Algus had done ninety percent of the work by the time my conversation with Dycedarg had finished. I stood next to Ramza, looking out at our troop of 9, staring at them blankly for a moment.</p><p>"You want to speak to the men, Degurechaff?"</p><p>"Not particularly, no."</p><p>"Is it my job to rally our troops, then?"</p><p>"Well," I said with a smile as I looked at him, "You <em>are </em>the noble, are you not?"</p><p>He sighed, stepping in front of me with his hands behind his back.</p><p>"As Algus may have informed you," he began, walking towards our cadre of troops, "Marquis Elmdor has been kidnapped, and is being held in the city of Dorter by the Corpse Brigade. They were already brigands and thieves, but to descend to kidnapping…"</p><p>A mournful sigh left his lips, and he ran a hand through his hair.</p><p>"I had hoped they would be better than this. But, we cannot allow them to commit heinous acts simply out of hope. We go to Dorter, to save a man and a city from the banditry that holds them in its clutches."</p><p>He drew his sword, the blade glinting in the light as he looked over our men with a bright smile.</p><p>"Let us earn our graduation, shall we?"</p><p>A wave of cheers rolled out that shocked me to my core. Are you really this excited, subordinates!? We've just cut your vacation short by months for a rescue mission that almost assuredly will result in the deaths of at least a few of you! Please, don't appreciate his speech this much - it'll only result in misery!</p><p>"How was that Degurechaff?" Ramza asked me with a bright smile. I patted his shoulder, giving him a smile of my own.</p><p>"Well," I said, looking out at our band, "I can't say it was terrible."</p><p>xxx</p><p>"Gustav," the blonde said as she looked at the unconscious body of a white haired man, "Why, in the name of God did you kidnap the Marquis?"</p><p>"Honest work for honest pay? Don't tell me you believe that rot, Milleuda," the man replied, kicking the body. It let out a muffled groan, and he looked around in distaste at the rundown shack the three were inside of. The walls were covered in grime, bricks that had once had a shine to them mired by dust and age. "Wiegraf's delusions of grandeur have no place in reality."</p><p>"They're not <em>delusions! </em>If the nobles would listen-"</p><p>"Listen? Hah! Did they listen to Wiegraf when he warned that Ordallian mages were superior to Ivalician? Did they listen after we aided the Siegebreaker and the Thunder God in the sacking of Nelvaska? Did they open those damn ears of theirs when Riovanes was at risk of falling?"</p><p>The man turned to look at Milleuda, his eyes weary, the sockets surrounded by the darkness caused by lack of sleep.</p><p>"The nobility doesn't give a damn about us, Milleuda. If we live, if we die - it's meaningless to them. They refuse to pay attention to our pleas. Look at this festering city, do you truly believe they care about the people?"</p><p>The woman flinched, looking away. Dorter had been in an economic spiral downwards for a year, if not more. The Corpse Brigade had tried - heavens knew they had - to bring it up to a more reasonable standard, but the spiral continued, a swirling downturn of economics that couldn't be halted by a band of broke ex-soldiers.</p><p>"Wiegraf has the ear of the nobility-"</p><p>"Nobility, which would raise funds, but not a sword, have no right to look down on those who bled for God and country. How long has this campaign raged? How long must we play at being bandits until they pay attention? This, though…"</p><p>He sneered at the body of Marquis Elmdor.</p><p>"This will make them listen. Let them come to Dorter. Let them hear our demands. And if they refuse them, I'll gut the Marquis where we stand, and this farce will end."</p><p>She looked at him with a frown.</p><p>"You are listening to liars, Gustav. Wiegraf will have no part in this mummers' farce."</p><p>"If it is a farce that will bring us justice, then a mummer I shall be, Milleuda. Go to Wiegraf, if you desire. Tell him where I am. Tell him that <em>I </em>- not he - have the ear of the nobility. His Corpse Brigade will mean naught before the year's end. It will be <em>my </em>Corpse Brigade that claims our earnings. My Corpse Brigade that demands justice. And if justice will not be delivered…"</p><p>An ugly sneer formed on Gustav's face as he gave a pointed look to the body of the Marquis.</p><p>"Then I will send not peace, but a sword."</p><p>The woman looked at him with horror, before whirling around and exiting the shack. Outside, the city was decrepit - moans of hunger echoing in her ears as she untied her chocobo, getting onto its back. She looked at it once, before clutching her hand to the rosary around her neck.</p><p>"Oh Lord," she whispered, eyes closed in prayer as she bucked the reins of her mount, "Please help us sinful children of Ivalice."</p><p>When she left, she did not look back.</p><p>xxx</p><p>I hope everyone's holidays were fun, I had a pretty great time! More words soon! I do not write terribly fast, just in general, so I take a while. You are all truly wonderful, please continue reading my words, and yell at me if they are bad. I have no problems with rewrites.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A City of Rats</h2></a>
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    <p>
  <em>“Do not begin to play at war, boy. When you play at war, the ending is just as loathsome and cruel as war itself.”</em>
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  <em>- Cidolfus Orlandeau to Wiegraf Folles, upon the denial of pay to the Corpse Brigade.</em>
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<hr/><p> </p><p>“Degurechaff,” Algus said as we walked, glancing at me with curiosity, “What house do you descend from?”</p><p>“Obviously, the house of Degurechaff, Thadalfus,” I replied with a roll of my eyes. “It is, after all, my name.”</p><p>“Aye, that much is obvious, but from where does that house hail?”</p><p>“I’m not particularly versed in the genealogy of family trees, Thadalfus. You’d have to ask someone who gives a damn.”</p><p>He gave me a peculiar look, and I arched an eyebrow in return. Neither of us spoke for a moment, before his head turned forward once more. In the distance, I could see the dim torchlight that marked the entrance to Dorter - we were closing in.</p><p>“Do you know the story of my family, Degurechaff?”</p><p>“I do not.”</p><p>“During the Fifty Year War, my grandfather he…” Algus’ face curled into some mixture of anger and disgust as he spoke, the words tearing themselves from his mouth. “Once, we were held as highly as House Beoulve.”</p><p>I stayed quiet as the boy spoke, his frustration clear in his face.</p><p>“But my grandfather, when he was captured - he sold out his comrades, simply to live. All of his talk of honor, and for what? His honor was traded for scraps of food, and he was repaid with the blade of his squire through his belly when they were released. When word reached our house, my father was the only one who could not believe in it. Everyone else… they descended on us like hounds.”</p><p>I approved of this storied figure of history <em>immensely. </em>Naturally, one’s life is worth far more than one’s honor - honor can be traded for coin, but life is irreplaceable. Even if I had been given this loathsome second chance, what good would it do if I were to be bled out in some ditch in the middle of nowhere? This ‘second chance’ is merely a petty power play on the part of Being X, who was so frustrated with the society that he created. If I died to show how honorable I was, wouldn’t I just be wasting my time?</p><p>“I will restore my family name,” Algus said with a fire in his eyes. “I will raise the house Thadalfus so high that even the Beoulves will be forced to bend their knees when they look upon us.”</p><p>“High orders,” I muttered. “At least our current ones are much simpler, no?”</p><p>“How will we rescue the Marquis?” He said, quietly as he looked ahead. “I do not wish for us to go so far only for him to die.”</p><p>“If need be, I’ll raze the city to ashes and pick him from the cinders,” I assured him with a smile. He looked at me in wonder, and I was pleased to know that he found it so easy to trust us, even though we had just met. Algus was a fellow coworker in the Northern Sky, after all; it would not do for him to find us to be untrustworthy. “Alas, Ramza has some… apprehensions, about such an idea.”</p><p>“I can’t imagine why,” Algus muttered, giving me a look out of the corner of his eye. “It seems utterly sane.”</p><p>“Doesn’t it?” I said with a sigh. “Most likely, we will treat with the Corpse Brigade, and see what they desire. If such a thing is possible, Ramza will presumably grant it.”</p><p>“And if what they ask is impossible, Degurechaff?”</p><p>“Why Thadalfus...” I grinned at him, nudging his shoulder. “That’s when we’re forced to <em>earn </em>that graduation of ours.”</p><p>He grimaced, looking away from me. I frowned, before turning away from him as well. We walked in silence, before Ramza held up a hand.</p><p>“Hold,” he whispered. The shadows of Dorter cast themselves long and far, the torches at the entrance glimmering bright in the darkness of the night. “Villipede, Willows, scout ahead. Voll, with them - and stay <em>quiet.</em>”</p><p>The two saluted, before creeping ahead of the rest. I crept forward, tapping Delita on the arm. He turned, arching an eyebrow.</p><p>“What are the odds it ends in a fight?”</p><p>“With <em>Ramza </em>involved?” He looked at me incredulously. “And <em>you </em>as well?”</p><p>“I’m not sure what you meant by that,” I said, frowning. “Is there some sort of implication of guilt there?”</p><p>“Are you making a joke, Degurechaff?”</p><p>“Heiral, I never joke.”</p><p>“Wait…” he gave me a queer look, brow furrowed. “Was that a jest as well?”</p><p>“Do you have ears on the side of your skull, or are they just for decoration?”</p><p>“This is why I let Ramza deal with you…” he groaned softly, scratching the side of his head.</p><p>I glared at him, before leaving him to whatever he pretended was his pre-battle preparations. Honestly, for an adjutant to such a high ranking noble, Delita was rather terrible at his job. He seemed more concerned about preparing himself then informing Ramza of the feelings of the men, let alone offering any real advice to his superior. Honestly, if it wasn’t for his people skills, I wouldn’t have been able to fathom how he’d held the position for so long; but Delita’s charisma could certainly carry him a long way, far further than myself, if I was being perfectly honest. I had to cheat through nepotism to raise myself in rank - the only nepotism involved in Delita’s position was that he’d known Ramza most of his life. Wait a minute, technically, wasn’t I the highest ranked person on this mission?! I was supposed to be Dycedarg’s voice in the future, right!? I bit my lip, nervously fingering my staff as I did so, thinking over my suddenly insecure future.</p><p>As a superior, if this mission were to fail, the blame would naturally fall on me, wouldn’t it? It would end up being completely my fault! Damn you, Being X! This is your fault, isn’t it?! You knew that this mission would be a total disaster, so you baited that idiot Ramza into being a part of it so I’d end up with my head being removed from my body as punishment! Well not this time, do you hear me!?</p><p>I had to think fast. How could we get out of this predicament? It all depended on the scouting party, but they worried me too! Remia just couldn’t help herself, she was a total kleptomaniac. That girl had never seen a pocket she <em>didn’t </em>want to pick, and I’m supposed to just sit here quietly and wait for her return? Ramza, your choice of subordinates for scouting so far… It’s really been subpar. I’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t working.</p><p>“Dirk,” I whispered, nudging the summoner’s shoulder as he slowly turned to look at me with horror. “Prepare a barrage.”</p><p>“Our scouts haven’t even returned yet, Tanya,” he said back in a quiet voice, giving me a stern look. “At least <em>pretend </em>to give a damn about some of the people you’ve trained.”</p><p>“Remia and Vinya will be fine,” I said dismissively. My eyes narrowed as I looked at him, arching an eyebrow. “Now prepare some damn spells. When they return, would it not be preferable for our spells to fly faster than the enemies?”</p><p>He spat a curse under his breath, before his eyes began to glow with mana. I smiled, nodding at him before turning away, moving towards Ramza. The idiot had no idea what we were getting into, even with all of my amazing preparations.</p><p>“Where are they?” I asked him in a low tone, watching as his eyes flicked to me. “It’s not that large a city.”</p><p>“I would hope they can develop a better report then ‘there are guards inside of it’, Degurechaff,” he said in reply. “Or would you rather we lose the Marquis during our rescue mission?”</p><p>Losing the Marquis was basically inevitable at this point, you idiot! I don’t want us to lose our <em>lives, </em>isn’t that more important than some damn noble?!</p><p>“I don’t like it,” I hissed. “All this waiting around… What if they can see us, Beoulve?”</p><p>“In the dead of night? Do they perhaps have the eyes of an owl as well as the Marquis?”</p><p>I glared at him, and he rolled his eyes as a form of reply. This bastard, was he really looking down on me?</p><p>“Is it a difference of birth that makes you so sure of yourself?”</p><p>“Don’t start now Degurechaff,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes. “Are there not more important things than your crusade against genealogy at the moment?”</p><p>“Is it this mudlike blood that runs through my veins that makes us so different?”</p><p>“Are you really doing this right now?”</p><p>“Ahh, to be born so high and lordly that you can look down from the heavens and send decrees like God himself~”</p><p>“By <em>God</em>, Degurechaff, will you <em>cease </em>speaking for two seconds?”</p><p>I crossed my arms, frowning at him before I jerked a thumb towards the city where the torches flickered.</p><p>“This is dangerous and you’re treating it like an exercise, Beoulve. If I can’t trust you to lead, how can you trust me to follow?”</p><p>He bit his lip, before his shoulders sagged and he let out a long sigh.</p><p>“...Fine. Do as you please. But let us at least <em>attempt </em>a negotiation first, yes?”</p><p>I smiled, patting him on the shoulder. As a coworker, it was important to maintain a certain level of honesty with your fellow employees - especially those of equal or higher rank. Ramza Beoulve, while higher by station of birth, was apparently a fan of meritocracy like myself. Without him, I would be trapped as another lowly serf, following orders, but now I was in the chain of command, <em>officially.</em></p><p>...But seriously. Negotiations? With the enemy? They've already kidnapped one noble, Ramza! Are you seriously so naive that you believe in the innate goodness of humanity!? Look around, idiot! This is why I have to go with him. There's no way that anyone born with such a silver spoon could possibly understand the desperation of a normal person.</p><p>“We’re back,” a high pitched voice whispered, and I could see a mane of blonde hair and a pair of red eyes appear from the shadows, as Remia walked forward. “Twenty, maybe twenty-five men. No indication where the Marquis is. We’ll have to draw him out somehow before we can attempt any sort of rescue.”</p><p>“Haaaah…” Delita let out a sigh, rubbing his neck. “It’ll have to be Ramza, then.”</p><p>“Yeah, Ramza’s the best option here.”</p><p>“Definitely Ramza. Anyone else would mess it up, right?”</p><p>“Could you imagine if <em>Caim </em>did it? Or, God forbid, <em>Amelie? </em>Ramza’s the safest.”</p><p>“Alright then, Ramza,” Finn smiled as he slapped the blonde on the back, making the boy stumble forward, “Do your best!”</p><p>Oy. Wait a minute, you guys. What is this, exactly? Are you sacrificing our leader to the enemy for a distraction? This isn’t what you’re supposed to do! Whatever happened to <em>respect </em>for the higher-ups, you know?! You can’t just go around giving them up for a little bit of an advantage! If only because then I’d have to worry you’d <em>do it to me!</em></p><p>“I’ll go with him,” I said, and ignored Finn’s look of utter horror as I spoke. “Beoulve can’t be trusted in enemy territory.”</p><p>“Tanya, I ah… I don’t think--”</p><p>“What, exactly, don’t you think Barrel?”</p><p>“Well, I mean... “ Locke struggled to figure out the right words, pausing and running a hand through his black hair. “It’s just that I’ve <em>accepted </em>negotiation requests from you before, and--”</p><p>“And what, Barrel? What exactly is wrong with the way I negotiate?”</p><p>The boy paled, clamming shut in an instance. I hadn’t the faintest what he was talking about, anyways. Was it the time I stabbed him after accepting his white flag? You’re a chemist, idiot! You think I want to get blown up by a bomb after you surrender?! I saw that scheming look in your eyes when you offered it to me! You’re totally untrustworthy, you take six sausages for breakfast when they’re offered! <em>And </em>you never save any of the coffee!</p><p>“Alright then,” Ramza said as he stood, “With me, Degurechaff.”</p><p>He walked towards the gates, and I scrambled after to follow him, our feet moving over the dying grass at a moderate pace. Ramza walked as if there was no need to fear what was before us, his head held high and his back as straight as a sword. He was too stupid to understand that he was being sacrificed, so it was up to me to make sure he didn’t die.</p><p>“Margriff!” He yelled as we came up to the closed gate. There was a sudden rustle of movement from above, as archers moved to point arrows at our position but he stood as if they weren’t there. “I’ve come to bargain!”</p><p>“So--” a voice called out from above us, a mocking and cruel edge to it’s tone, “The Order has come out to play, have they?”</p><p>“Not the Order, Margriff,” Ramza said as he peered upwards, searching for the voice. “A representative. It would not be a bargain if we were the Order, would it?”</p><p>A bark of laughter burst from above, and I could hear more shuffling around.</p><p>“Beoulve,” I hissed, “I don’t like it.”</p><p>“And who might you be?” It asked.</p><p>“Ramza Beoulve and…” he looked at me briefly. “Associate.”</p><p>There was whispering from above, before the gate slowly creaked open. In front of us was a brown haired man wearing a green cloak, holding a man with long white hair and a red cloak - who I vaguely recognized as the Marquis - in a tight grip, a dagger at his neck. The man’s eyes were filled with a dark rage, and his face was curled into a grimace of a smile.</p><p>“Lord Beoulve deems the Brigade worthy of his time, does he? He sees the value in listening to what we desire?”</p><p>“Aye,” Ramza said, inclining his head. “If what you ask is reasonable-”</p><p>“-And what, exactly, does Lord Beoulve deem <em>reasonable, </em>brat? We wish to be paid, in full. We wish to eat till our bellies are full. We wish to be granted the respect that we are owed for our efforts in the war. Is that reasonable?”</p><p>Ramza hesitated. Damn it. He couldn’t hesitate here.</p><p>“Is it reasonable to partake in loathsome acts such as kidnapping, then?” I said, crossing my arms. “To murder? To steal?”</p><p>“Taking what we are owed is unreasonable, then?” Gustav Margriff laughed, a long hollow sound as his face contorted into an eerie smile, more like he was a reaper of death than a human being. Being X, damn you! How dare you involve yourself by fooling around with a man at the end of his rope! His knife pricked the Marquis’ neck, and Elmdor looked at us with pleading eyes. “Then his death will not be so unreasonable, would it?”</p><p>“If you move your knife an inch-”</p><p>“-Then I’ll order you two filled with arrows before you can blink,” he answered Ramza’s unfinished threat, his sunken eyes glittering in the firelight. “Do not <em>test </em>me, Beoulve. We will take what we are owed, one way or the other.”</p><p>“And is the blood of innocents worth the price of your sins?” I asked, staring upwards at him. “I can taste it from here.”</p><p>“Taste what?”</p><p>“Nothing of import,” I said, smiling up at him as the fire flickered in my eyes. “Just that arrogance that only nobility holds.”</p><p>“You--!!”</p><p>“Tell me, what is it like to only pretend to roll in the mud with the common man?” I continued, opening my arms wide as I took a step forward. “For from where I stand, I can only see that dreadful rot you call <em>honor </em>taking hold of your soul.”</p><p>“What honor is there in nobility, Beoulve?! What honor is there in this rotted society at all!?”</p><p>“Release the Marquis,” Ramza said. “I swear to fulfill your demands to the best of my abilities.”</p><p>“Hah! Your abilities?! Who are you, but a pair of brats playing at leadership?! I’ll show you what <em>leading </em>means, you noble scum!”</p><p>Damn you, Being X! I knew that these negotiations wouldn't work out, but to fail this spectacularly, there's no way it's anyone’s fault but yours! How dare you subvert the natural order of diplomacy in your desperation for bloodshed. This is why I didn't want Ramza - and by extension, me - to be anywhere near these lunatics! Well, cheer up Tanya, I thought, giving myself a mental pat on the back. Maybe Ramza will praise me for being so forward thinking. It’s a good thing I had told Dirk what to do ahead of time. After all, it's all Ramza’s fault we're in this mess in the first place.</p><p>The knife glinted in the light as he raised it. I could see a flicker of horror run through the Marquis eyes before it vanished, a mask of stoicism replacing it. What a strong soul -- even in the face of death he maintained that veneer of respectability that in this era is called ‘nobility.’ But, it would look terrible on my record were he to die.</p><p>“Negotiations have broken down,” I said, raising my arm with a brilliant smile. “Fire at will.”</p><p>The winds <em>howled </em>as the fiery fist of Ifrit burst above my head, and I began to weave together my mana, pouring more and more into what would ordinarily be a simple spell of Haste. But all magic can be cast onto spaces, and I had never cared for something as simple as ‘enhancing others’. What’s the point of enhancing my subordinates, when I can allow them to move faster <em>on the way </em>to our destination? I crafted another carpet made of time, layering it with that wonderful magic that enhanced reactions, and set it down behind Ramza and myself, muttering words of power to enhance his physical capabilities as I did so.</p><p>“Next time, Degurechaff,” Ramza muttered as he drew a spear, his legs tensing with energy, “Try not to <em>speak </em>during negotiations, will you?”</p><p>He jumped, vanishing high into the sky as Margriff’s knife dropped from his hand, looking in horrified awe at the array of elements behind me. Ifrit and Shiva danced in the sky, Tenevere and Dirk in fine form tonight with their summons. I drew a katana from a sheath, turning back and holding it high above my head.</p><p>“Innocent sword,” I intoned, the blade shaking in my hand as I twirled it in a circle, sidestepping an arrow that one of the archers managed to fire off before Ramza’s spear pierced through his side, “Slash evils and protect -- <em>Kiyomori.</em>”</p><p>A shield of protection began to flow around my body, the holy magic that I was so fond of echoing through the blade as I sheathed it once more, before holding out my hand as I walked forward, Margriff’s eyes going wide as he fumbled for his sword.</p><p>“None of that,” I muttered. “<em>Stop.</em>”</p><p>His hand froze while his sword was half out of the sheathe, and I flickered in space before grabbing the Marquis hand elegantly, smiling brightly at him.</p><p>“Lord Dycedarg sends his regards,” I whispered in the man’s ear, and he froze in place. I hadn’t the faintest idea why; shouldn’t he be ecstatic that such a wonderful superior cared so deeply for him that he would send his own brother to save the man? Besides, we’re still in combat! Start moving already! “Please await us outside, my lord. We have some… trash to dispose of.”</p><p>He broke into a staggered run, and I saw out of the corner of my eye as Algus grabbed the man by the arm, placing him behind himself. He looked at me with shining eyes, and I smiled back at him, placing two fingers on my forehead as I saluted. One of Tenevere’s spells crashed into a building behind me as I did so, the light of the flames flickering brightly in this dead and empty night.</p><p>“You’re cheery, Degurechaff,” Voll said with a lazy smile when he arrived by my side, his hand ripping an arrow out of the air, spinning it idly in his hand before launching it back. In the distance I heard a muffled sound of pain, and I nudged his shoulder with my own. “Save some for the rest of us, would you?”</p><p>“Perhaps you should be a little faster then, Voll,” I replied, twisting my hand to send a quick restoration spell towards Finn as he joined Ramza at the top of the battlements, his spear piercing through the head of an archer. “But fear not - I’ll try to make sure that Ramza doesn’t have <em>all </em>the fun.”</p><p>Ramza was already moving on, pulling his arm back as lightning crackled along his spear, before he once more jumped high into the sky, vanishing momentarily from my sight. I could see Delita dueling a swordsman in the distance, and I embraced the mana in my soul once more, sending a spell of speed into his arms. The boy blurred for a moment, his sword twisting in a peculiar way before he disarmed his opponent, sending the man scrambling away. He raised his sword over his head, but didn’t have time to bring it down as two men burst from the doors carrying knives. Ah well, he can take care of himself.</p><p>Ramza <em>crashed </em>down on top of a building, his spear piercing through an archer’s arm before it sent a jolt of electricity sparking down it, and he released the shaft, kicking the man to the ground. His sword whirled in his hand as he turned around, engaging another swordsman that had crawled up to aid his comrade. Idiot. There’s no stopping someone like Ramza - he’s more machine than man as is when it comes to combat.</p><p>“Tenevere!” I barked, and I could see her eyes faintly glowing behind our frontline as she and Dirk approached, hanging a bit further back then de Floure in order to maintain a sense of safety. “Dirk! Raze them to the ground!”</p><p>The duo’s mana shifted as it flowed faster and faster, their mouths moving faster than I could see as they manipulated the espers flying high above the city of Dorter - Ifrit and Shiva were in fine form tonight, and I hummed a quiet tune before shifting the swords I was carrying once more.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” a hand clapped my shoulder, and I turned to see Remia’s face next to mine as she winked, tensing her legs while energy flowed through her body. “I’ll take that set, Tanya. Take a break, why don’t you?”</p><p>Well, I can’t say I minded having such lovely subordinates. Remia’s body burst forward, a hurricane of limbs that danced as she approached Delita, one of the thieves caught totally off guard before her fist slammed into his face with ridiculous speed. I let out a burst of laughter where I was standing, before turning away from the two of them. They could take care of themselves, right? Ramza seemed in a good position as well, which meant…</p><p>There’s nothing for me to do again! What a wonderful feeling it is, to be free of the need to earn your place! I can now just watch as the rest of our troop weaves this symphony of violence, like the cello player when their piece has already been played! Time and white magic are the strongest, as I had expected. What an incredible set of magics for not doing anything!</p><p>Oh, wait. It looks like Vinya was stabbed a little. But that’s fine, she’s standing near de Floure, who I can already see weaving her spell. I laughed again, as Algus approached me with shining eyes.</p><p>“You really meant it,” he said in disbelief, looking at the carnage our troop was wreaking around him. “I thought that it was a jest, but…”</p><p>“I never joke, Thadalfus,” I said smiling at him. “If these bandits desire to hold this city, and keep the people hostage, then let us gut them where they stand.”</p><p>“But will not the people curse your name? You’ve destroyed their homes, have you not?”</p><p>“This city was already dying, Thadalfus. In its ashes, let Dorter be reborn anew - now that we have gutted those rats known as the Corpse Brigade from it, will it not shine brighter?”</p><p>He grinned at me, a wide bright thing as he drew his sword.</p><p>“Aye, Degurechaff. Now, if you’ll give me the leave, I see there are a few animals that have been left for me. If you wouldn’t mind?”</p><p>I inclined my head, and off he went to cull the remaining stragglers. The battle was simple, easy, and much faster than letting Ramza negotiate. He couldn’t even complain how I handled it, Margriff was clearly mad. Speaking of…</p><p>I looked at the man, still frozen in time with a smile as I approached him, picking up his dagger that had fallen to the floor. He looked at me, his eyes moving rapidly while his body was trapped in stasis, and I twirled the dagger in my hand.</p><p>“Go, Margriff,” I said, releasing the spell and tossing the dagger to him. “Tell your precious Brigade that the Order will no longer suffer their presence. This darkness you’ve cast over Gallione - we’ll stamp it out before the next year crests. Tell your leadership, the Beoulves have a new prodigy in their midst.”</p><p>I smiled, a thing with too many teeth as my eyes shone in the light of the fire.</p><p>
  <em>“And that prodigy will not suffer this stain on their country any longer.”</em>
</p><p>Margriff gripped the dagger close to his chest, his knees shaking as he held it at me.</p><p>“Devil… The both of you! Devils! No ordinary man could move like him! No ordinary mage could cast like that!”</p><p>“Is it devilry at play, or is it a simple question of genetics?” I asked, tapping my cheek. “It seems to me, Margriff, that your precious ideals have looked upon you with disdain -- and found you wanting.”</p><p>His sunken eyes shook with rage as he gripped his knife. Seriously, go already. I can’t threaten your leadership if at least some of you don’t live, you know? I need you to take my message to the top! You’re clearly connected to them, get out of here already!</p><p>“I… I…”</p><p>“Will leave with my words, correct? Although, I suppose…”</p><p>My hand dropped to my side, and I began to slowly draw one of my blades.</p><p>“I could take your life instead…”</p><p>His shaking hands dropped the knife with a clattering sound, and he scrambled away, looking at me with horror before his legs began to move faster and faster, I watched until he was out of sight, turning to look at the scene around me. The flickers of flames were beginning to die, Vinya and Voll having already culled the enemy mages, and all around me the sounds of battle were slowly fading into that peaceful silence known as victory.</p><p>Ramza pulled his spear out of the body that had fallen below him, and began to walk towards me. I bowed before him, stretching out an arm.</p><p>“My liege,” I said, the cries of the wounded and dying encircling us. “Dorter is yours.”</p><p>“Aye,” he said as he placed the spear on his back. “And the Marquis safe. I suppose, Degurechaff…”</p><p>He let out a long sigh.</p><p>“You were right. As usual.”</p><p>“Indeed, Beoulve,” I said, my eyes glinting in the firelight. “That is why you should listen to me, after all.”</p>
<hr/><p>As always, I'd like to thank my two (2!!!) betas, Halt and Lunatic Blue for their grand work in crafting Tanya's funtime adventures in being a normal girl in Ivalice.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7: Kill the Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em>“The Corpse Brigade’s end was as ignomous as their beginning. In spite of their prowess in the Fifty Year War, what brought the Brigade to its knees was a combination of the Order of the Northern Sky, and a single band of cadets, with scant renown to their names. Of course, that simple cadre of cadets… It is hard to call them mere cadets, as to do so would be to ignore the start of those praised and cursed names - Ramza Beoulve and Tanya Degurechaff.” </em>
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  <em>- A Record of the War of the Lions, by Orran Durai, AU5.</em>
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  <em>Chapter 7: Kill the Boy</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The trip back to Eagrose was simplistic in comparison to leaving it. We walked with a purpose in our step and pride in our hearts, our heads held high as Algus fussed over his liege lord. Vinya danced between groups, going from teasing Finn by jumping up to pat his head to flicking past Caim and tweaking his nose. We were in high spirits, after all; our mission was accomplished with relative ease, so I allowed the troops their little games and jokes.</p><p>The castle gate came up to us faster than before, even though the cheers of the commoners followed us here - a group of at least twenty people idling behind us as the gates opened up, Dycedarg’s lazy smile and raised hand sending a scattering of cheers bursting from our backs. Zalbaag too, took a step forward, raising his hand in a wave, and the crowd went wild. These Beoulves… Why can’t I be that popular!? It’d make my life so carefree and simple that it makes me want to cry!</p><p>“Welcome home, Ramza,” Zalbaag said with a smile as Algus and the Marquis were ushered indoors by Dycedarg. The Marquis looked back with wide eyes, and I waved politely as the doors shut behind him, his eyes never leaving mine. “I see your mission was a success.”</p><p>It had been a relatively swift journey back, barely a few days passing as I'd finally had a chance to drag Vinya aside for a crash course in 'Ivalician map-reading'. Dorter was practically a hop and a skip away from Eagrose; three days march if you took it slowly, and cutting right across the Mandalia Plains was relatively simple when all the monsters were running scared during a mobilization effort on the scale of whatever Zalbaag was up to.</p><p>We walked forward, the iron gates slowly closing shut in our wake, leaving our throng of admirers behind us. They dispersed quickly enough, each wandering back to their mundane lives. Eagrose was unchanged, the stones clean of moss, the statues surrounding us, it was as peaceful as it was previously. I could hear birds in the distance as they flitted from tree to tree, and the quiet murmur of the wind accompanied them.</p><p>“Aye, brother,” Ramza said quietly, turning to look into the distance. I jerked my head at our troops, who quickly dispersed, apart from myself and Delita. “But…”</p><p>“But what, Ramza?”</p><p>“We may have gone a little overboard,” he said, sending me an annoyed look. “Parts of Dorter have been… Lost.”</p><p>“Lost?” Zalbaag arched an eyebrow. “Are you to say the Brigade put the city to the torch rather than have you take it?”</p><p>“No,” Ramza shook his head. “We burnt it.”</p><p>“A bit of fire never harmed anyone, Ramza.” Zalbaag said with a laugh. “Ask our brother sometime about what he got up to during the war. Cities can be rebuilt, livelihoods restored. If that is what it takes to regain peace in Gallione, is it not worth it?”</p><p>“It… It doesn’t seem <em>just, </em>brother,” he whispered, clenching his fists. “We slaughtered them, aye, and assuredly they deserved it, but their screams, the look of horror in the archer’s eyes as I thrust my spear through him-”</p><p>“-It is good that you still know what it means to be noble, Ramza,” Zalbaag said, adjusting his sword belt. He looked into the distance, and all three of us followed his eyes, staring out at where Alma and Tietra were playing by the lake . Tietra flung water at the other girl, who let out an indignant shriek before tackling her friend to the ground. “But it is not for the likes of you and I to debate whether what we do is right. They were bandits and thieves, robbers who care not for the people of Gallione, but only for their pockets.”</p><p>“And yet-”</p><p>“You cannot worry over the lives of the unjust in order to rise high as a knight, Ramza,” Zalbaag said, clapping his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You are no longer a boy, after all, but a man.”</p><p>“Is slaughtering men a work that only a man can do then?” Ramza said quietly.</p><p>“Your worries, Ramza, are the worries of a boy. Kill the boy,  Ramza,” Zalbaag said. “Kill him, and let the man be born.”</p><p>He left it at that, turning on his heel and walking inside the building after Algus and Dycedarg. We stood quietly for a time, watching Tietra and Alma play; Delita and Ramza with the prodigious patience that can only be afforded to elder siblings, and myself with the impatience of the only child. In this world of blood and fury, it was absolutely absurd to see someone so highly placed as Ramza Beoulve afford himself so little leeway. Bravery? Justice? Nobility? Are we in the 21st century, Ramza? Those are concepts that only the truly strong can afford to hold, not a pair of cadets! We don’t have any kind of power in this world beyond ‘that which is afforded to us by our superiors’, how can you miss this obvious concept!?</p><p>Ivalice was a world that was, fortunately, inherently capitalist. In a capitalist society, one exchanges money for goods and services. These services can be vast beyond all rational belief, the hundreds of possibilities located inside of them enough that a single person could never hope to accomplish half of the wonders of capitalism alone. But right now, I - we - are less than cogs in this monstrous machine. Cogs don’t have rights, or ideals, or anything but the concept of ‘movement’ that is deeply embedded into their inner psyche. This ability, to move, is one so inherently obvious to the average cog that the concept of ‘stopping’ would be impossible. We are the nuts and bolts of this machine, the things that allow cogs <em>to </em>move. An important part, yes, but easily replaceable. Stop trying to get me replaced, idiot! I worked hard to get to this point in my second life!</p><p>“How do you do it, Degurechaff?”</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>“Does it not bother you when men scream for their mothers as they bleed? Does it not affect you, knowing that we killed them for their crimes?”</p><p>“They were criminals, and we were dispatched by Lord Dycedarg,” I said simply in response. “It is not the place of cadets to question the wishes of our superiors, is it not? We followed the orders we were given.”</p><p>“Did our orders include <em>razing </em>half of Dorter to the ground, then?” Ramza whispered as he watched the girls play. “For Tietra and Alma to remain safe… is this what it truly requires?”</p><p>“You think too much, Beoulve,” I replied. The wind blew soft at Eagrose, the branches of the trees lazily rocking back and forth as we spoke. The rustle of leaves was a soothing sound, especially compared to the sounds at Dorter. “As Lord Zalbaag said, it will be rebuilt. But if we do not hammer the lesson into the Brigade, will they not simply spring up again? And again? Endlessly sprouting, until their demands beggar the nation for coin?”</p><p>“Aye, and yet…” Ramza clenched his fist, raising it as he stared a hole in his hand, like the answers would be given if he glared at it hard enough. “If we are to be knights in earnest, is it not important for us to be <em>just? </em>To be noble and righteous, brave and true to the end?”</p><p>“That’s an ideal, Beoulve.”</p><p>“In the end, Degurechaff,” he said, smiling sadly at me. “Ideals are all we have.”</p><p>I didn’t like these sorts of conversations. It was so much simpler with Dycedarg or my subordinates. With Dycedarg, all I had to do was follow the flow of the conversation and promise to fulfill my obligations, as any good employee would. And my subordinates listened to me, because I had beaten into them what was necessary for us to succeed in this world of martial prowess. Ramza was…</p><p>Difficult. Exceedingly so.</p><p>Ramza Beoulve was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and seemed to have no idea what the implications of such a birthright meant. Ramza Beoulve was a person with exceeding, almost ludicrous skill in combat, but he seemed to believe in that inherent thing called ‘goodness’, in spite of all the proof that the world threw at him that there was no such thing that existed. It made me wonder why that devil had even bothered with the likes of me, when people like <em>this </em>existed.</p><p>“Listen to your superiors. Follow orders. Do what is required of you. That is all that is needed to rise high in society, is it not?”</p><p>“Is it so important to you, Degurechaff, to rise high, even at the cost of what you believe in?”</p><p>“What I believe in, Beoulve,” I said with a smile, “Is that society honors those who deserve it, and casts down those who do not.”</p><p>“Hah!” Delita barked out a laugh. “What a cynical viewpoint. I can’t say I’m surprised, but even so.”</p><p>Cynical? How naive of Delita Heiral to say such a thing. As the son of a commoner who had risen high through the position of his friend, I expected better from him. While such a thing was standard here, I had assumed he had enough forethought to comprehend why he was being allowed to rise up in the ranks.</p><p>“That sort of society you believe in Degurechaff, I don’t think I could stand it.” Ramza said quietly, watching his sister and her friend. “In fact, I would be more inclined to destroy it.”</p><p>“I’d be more than happy to debate politics with you at a later date, Beoulve, but look around. No rest for the wicked.”</p><p>He turned, to see Zalbaag once more walking towards us, a cadre of men behind him. I counted at least seven knights, six mages, and a scattering number of archers, all mounted on chocobos. Zalbaag dismounted from his, and looked at the three of us.</p><p>“Ah, it’s good you’re here,” he said with a broad smile. “Ramza, our lord brother has given us orders. Let us eradicate the Brigade, once and for all. You know of the Thieves’ Fort?”</p><p>“Aye,” Ramza said, a grim look on his face. “Are we to make way at once?”</p><p>“You catch on quick, Ramza!” Zalbaag said, a quiet chuckle as he spoke. “Go to the Thieves’ Fort. You should know of it, yes? It's under a day's march from Eagrose itself. Capture those who surrender, kill those who do not. An easy mission, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Easier than the previous, certainly.” I muttered. Delita elbowed me in the side, and I gave him a dirty look in response.</p><p>“Aye,” Ramza murmured, a worried look on his face. He smoothed it out with a smile, looking at Zalbaag. “The fort we played in as children, then?"</p><p>Zalbaag nodded, and Ramza put a hand up into a lazy sort of salute. "I suppose I’ll see you when we return then, lord brother.”</p><p>“Nay, Ramza,” Zalbaag replied, his hand clapping his brother’s shoulder. “Alas, our task is a bit more in depth then your own. We will not see each other until those damnable remnants are wiped out. This is your victory lap. When we see each other next, I expect I’ll have to call you <em>ser!</em>”</p><p>He laughed, mounting his chocobo and waving a hand.</p><p>“Oh, and Miss Degurechaff-” he said, looking at me. “Do try to keep Ramza safe, would you? He’s a bit prone to flights of fancy, as it were.”</p><p>I saluted, staring at Zalbaag, lips a determined line across my face.</p><p>“I’ll do my best, Knight Devout.”</p><p>“Hah! Your ethics are impeccable, Miss Degurechaff. I’ll see you three at the victory feast!”</p><p>He clicked the reigns, and the troop exited Eagrose. We watched them go, their mounts fading into the treeline with monstrous agility. Naturally, we were not as high up as them though. We would, of course, be forced to walk once more.</p><p>Damn it. I was hoping for another vacation, and yet..!</p><p>And yet…!</p><p>Again with the tasks! More of them, at that! Protect Ramza?! He’s an idiot! I can’t protect him from his own stupidity, Zalbaag! Give me something more reasonable, would you!?</p><p>“I’ll collect the men,” Delita said, leaving. “We’ll meet back here. Ramza, Degurechaff.”</p><p>Ramza nodded, and Delita left it at that. The two of us stood, Ramza’s eyes still staring out into the distance where his brother had just left.</p><p>“Degurechaff,” he said, looking at me. “If you try to create another Dorter-”</p><p>“It’s a barren fort for thieves, Beoulve. Does it really matter what it looks like at the end?”</p><p>“It matters not. If you wish for us to descend into hell alongside you, I’ll stop you.”</p><p>“Stop me? Our orders were from your brother, were they not?”</p><p>“Aye,” he said, turning to look me in the eye. His eyes burned with a fire I didn’t even know he <em>had</em>, and it sent a shiver down my spine. Oy, aren’t we friends Ramza?! Why are you treating me with such fury right now!? “But I will not stand by as innocents are slaughtered.”</p><p>“Who was innocent at Dorter, then? The civilians had long since abandoned the city to the Brigade’s dogs.”</p><p>“For their crimes, they deserved death, yes. If they had lived honestly…” Ramza sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Perhaps they would not have met such a fate. But was Margriff wrong? Do they not deserve to be paid for their actions during the war?”</p><p>“Very well, Beoulve, do as you wish.” I replied, crossing my arms with a stern look. “But that ability in and of itself is a blessing that is only afforded to the nobility. It is your right to use my blood - everyone’s blood - in your mad quest for justice.”</p><p>“That’s not what I meant, Degurechaff.”</p><p>“Then what is the stopping point, <em>Ramza?</em> How many lives are you willing to tread over, so that your enemies can go to their God and say they died with honor?”</p><p>He didn’t reply to me, staring into the distance like it would give him an answer to the questions I posed.</p><p>“I’ll do it with my own power, then,” he said, clenching his fist. “I will not climb over the corpses of the present to find the future I desire.”</p><p>“That’s beyond unreasonable. No single person can change the entire world, Beoulve.”</p><p>“Then, is it not grand that I have such a wise and brilliant person such as yourself to direct my way?” He smiled at me, and I rolled my eyes, examining one of the nearby statues over the idiot in front of me.</p><p>Ramza was stupid. Ridiculous beyond belief. Totally irrational when it came to things such as ‘honor’, ‘ideals’, and ‘truth’. His concepts were not fit for an aristocratic society in the early parts of a medieval era; the things he states are too high-minded for such a thing. Justice, peace, honor - all of these are ideas that are suited for the Victorian era and onwards, far too late for him to even be alive during that time. He’s too far ahead of his era, really. But that’s fine. We’re both a little misplaced in time, in the end.</p><p>“Then it’ll be my job to teach you why that’s foolish, I suppose.”</p><p>He laughed at that, and we fell into a companionable silence until Delita returned with the men. Algus was there as well, a grin on his face as he quietly spoke to Vinya about something or the other. We stood in front of them, and Ramza sighed.</p><p>“Do you wish to speak to them <em>this </em>time, Degurechaff?”</p><p>“Why Beoulve, has my station changed since we last spoke? Have I become a member of that fabled upper class of society that we lowly beings must cup our hands to grab their piss as it runs down their trousers?”</p><p>“God, your way with words is disgusting.”</p><p>“Would you prefer I bow and scrape to you? Oh, Lord Beoulve, I truly wish for nothing more than your success!”</p><p>“Enough,” Ramza said with a smile. “I’ll speak to them again.”</p><p>“Men,” he began, walking forward, “A simpler task then last time. We are to ransack the Thieves’ Fort, and to lay waste to those inside of it. Capture those who surrender, kill those who do not. Simple enough, isn’t it?”</p><p>A spattering of cheers rose out from our assembled troop. I felt depressed that they were so easily mollified.</p><p>“No more words,” he said, laughing a bit. “Let us be on our way. Gallione’s freedom from the brigade is at hand, and I will not have it sullied by mere words. Let us take back our country from these brigands. With me!”</p><p>He walked out the gate, and I jogged a bit to follow. Peeking back, everyone followed us with shining eyes. Oy, we’re setting out so fast you didn’t even have time to get a meal! Be a little angry, please! That way, I can convince Ramza we should wait a little bit longer! For myself, of course! I want to read more of the library, not trudge through the mud to go to some stupid fort!</p><p>Ahh… This really is the worst.</p><p>We marched in spite of my inner pleas.</p><p>The journey to Thieves’ Fort was relatively short, honestly. I moved with purpose next to Ramza’s side through the Mandalia plains, quietly fuming as we walked. The grass quickly gave way to mud, our marching feet easily covering the ground with an almost unnecessary level of speed. This was such a disgraceful use of human resources it made me want to cry. Even if we’re just cadets, shouldn’t this be a job for someone higher up? Dycedarg, if you’re there, why are you forsaking your voice and brother for such a minor gain!? You have a massive itinerary of forces on your side, and you’re using <em>these </em>as if it matters? I just don’t get it!</p><p>As expected, what I had once thought were competent and put-together superiors, are actually worth as much as the garbage on the side of the road. This is the inherent problem with an aristocratic society - meritocracy is thrown to the wayside. Lord Dycedarg did not receive his position in life because of any ‘merit’, but because it was his ‘birthright’. As such, the very existence of aristocracy is a stain on all those who believe in merit, but to say so is to mock those who live in it from up high. In spite of all the advancements of technology, and how far away I was in my time as a manager of human resources from this medieval world, it still maintained similar features to it. It didn’t matter that it was the year 20XX, and not 14XX, the superiors that I had were not entirely deserving themselves.</p><p>‘Your promotion couldn’t go through, X-san’s son needs some working experience.’</p><p>‘I’m sorry, but the director insists Y-san be promoted in your place.’</p><p>‘Z-san is the only person who could take this position, wouldn’t you agree?’</p><p>In the end, this meritless method of promotion held fast and strong for hundreds of years. But it was yet another obstacle to be crushed underneath the power of signaling theory. Those promotions I was passed up for were not the sort of jobs I wanted to do in the first place. Middle management is the best. Being too high up the food chain means you have to deal with the consequences of your actions, and the politics that come along with operating outside of the natural societal norms in order to attain such a position in the first place. So, while Dycedarg’s incompetence is frustrating, it is not unexpected - it is the natural order of things when you reach a position in society where merit ceases to be the core function of how positions are maintained. The overreliance on inner politicking means that you lose sight of how the real world functions.</p><p>Just one more year. Just one more year and I won’t ever have to bother with such ridiculous assignments again! As Dycedarg’s ‘voice’, my position would naturally be raised to his equivalent, and I would be able to flee the cruelty and wickedness of the battlefield forever! No more burning bodies! No more cries of help! No more curses on my name! Ahhh, it’s going to be so peaceful I could cry.</p><p>“I don’t want to bother with trash,” I said with a sigh, glancing at Ramza. “Should we prepare a barrage?”</p><p>“Aye,” Ramza said, frowning at the fort. “An easier advance is always… appreciated, is it not? Speak to the men for once, Degurechaff. They like you better then me anyways.”</p><p>“Hah… Always forcing off the unsavory things on the likes of me, aren’t you? Damn noble.”</p><p>“Just follow the order, Degurechaff.”</p><p>I walked towards the men, my arms behind my back. I didn’t really like public speaking, but in order to follow my beliefs in signaling theory, I would have to. Signaling theory is a beautiful concept that I thoroughly encourage everyone to believe in. For the average person, signaling theory is a confusing thing, but after I encountered the Chicago School of Economics in life, I understood it perfectly.</p><p>I must signal that I am a valuable human resource to others, in order to obtain a peaceful and serene life. In my world, being a ‘valued resource’ was simple; one had to complete tasks set in front of them, until such a time that tasks ceased to be placed in front of them that were more difficult - they maintain a similar level of skill for the vast majority of the time. In signaling theory, one party, the sender, will ‘signal’ to the other party, acting as a receiver, the value of the information they are conveying. So look lively, Ramza.</p><p>I’ll show you that even <em>Delita </em>can’t compare to me when it comes to rallying troops.</p><p>“Men,” I said, turning a swift face to walk horizontally alongside our small troop, “This is the last of it. After we crush the Brigade here, Lord Zalbaag’s sweep will doom their efforts to topple our glorious nation of Ivalice. These remnants are not even animals in this wondrous place known as Gallione - they are <em>vultures, </em>feasting like the carrion-feeders they are on the rotting pieces of this great country.”</p><p>I turned to face them, a bright smile on my face as I raised a hand, clutching it into a fist.</p><p>“Prepare for them a welcome mat that only mages can! Show them that these hopes and prayers they call desire will be met with the greatest God of all - the monstrous cannon of the Northern Sky’s wondrous mages!”</p><p>In this damnably backwards land I’ve found myself in, mages are the equivalent of a God, dictating the pace and position of the battlefield from down high. Those who fight in melee combat are oftentimes simple corpses that happen to walk. Firaga, Ifrit, Ramuh… How can a melee fighter compare to the dangerous power known as sorcery? It’s simply impossible for the likes of them in most scenarios.</p><p>“Mages!” I said, throwing my hand to the side. “Spells at the ready! Hold your fire until my command!”</p><p>I twirled my staff, and slowly crafted a box of time around the entrance to the fort, weaving around it to slow the area if any dared to exit it. I left a few holes on the side, for our melee fighters to enter - and myself to follow, naturally - but once the box was nearly finished, I held the cast back.</p><p>“Ahhhh,” I said with a sigh, “Truly, the scent of mana in the rain is a delight, is it not? Let’s make it a little easier to smell, so that our enemies can taste it on their tongues just as well as we can!”</p><p>I finished the spell, collapsing it into existence. The transparent mana suddenly solidified, a shining green prison with slow moving circles inside of it, that danced delightfully as I could hear the mutters of those behind it as they started to move.</p><p>“Are they here?!”</p><p>“Quick! Prepare for battle! Milleuda, <em>please</em>, you must flee-”</p><p>“Damn those knights! Do those bastards really think so little of us!?!”</p><p>“Ramza,” I said to our commander, saluting with two fingers. “Would you like the honors?”</p><p>“Do it yourself, Degurechaff,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he pulled the spear off his back, his hand running over it as he muttered under his breath. Lightning started to bloom on the weapon, and he twirled it once, then twice, before hoisting it like a javelin over his shoulder. “At your word.”</p><p>The air stilled.</p><p>“<em>FIRE!</em>”</p><p>Ramza’s arm <em>flew </em>forward, and out of his spear launched a gunshot of thunder magic that blitzed through the gate at ridiculous speed. A second passed, and I heard an explosion of mana from where it had landed, and in the sky I saw Shiva’s beautiful visage expand into existence, Her ice blasting downwards amidst screams. A fira followed it, Tenevere’s fire dropping like a meteor amongst the ice, creating a wondrous explosion.</p><p>“Oh praise be to God, his name is the summoner. That sounds about right, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“The concentrated mana of an esper is really a sight to behold. Amen.”</p><p>“What are you lot standing around for?” Algus asked with a smile as he raised his sword. “Degurechaff has prepared us such a wonderful slaughterhouse, has she not? Let us greet the enemy with a shout of joy and blades of kindness!”</p><p>A roar went up from the melee unit, who charged forward towards the entryway. I rolled my eyes at their excitement to charge towards their deaths, but prepared the ground they ran upon with time, enhancing their speed as they rushed for the gates. Gingerly, I followed along, the rest of our mages at my side as we approached the gates, all of us preoccupied by casting as we moved.</p><p>Ahead, I could see Ramza was already inside, his eyes cold as his sword clashed against a knight’s blade, a snarl already on his lips as they separated. He muttered something under his breath, and his blade erupted in flames when he whirled to engage another swordsman in combat, lifting his spear and slamming it through the man’s gut before turning away once more. He was fine, so I examined the battlefield.</p><p>Everyone was doing their job as a resource so far. As always, it was important as a manager to observe your employees at their tasks, and it appeared that there was little for me to do to aid them.</p><p>To each according to his ability, to each according to his need. If none have the need of my assistance, then I have accomplished my task, or duty, for this battle. This is the nature of meritocracy, and the battlefield is one of the ultimate forms of meritocracy that can possibly exist. While an ordinary person like me would ordinarily have no way to thrive in such horrific events - the likes of murder, or assault - this world is inherently different from the civilized society I cherish. In an era where all that matters is martial prowess, the only solution is to <em>maintain </em>said discipline at the highest possible standard. In my previous life, what had mattered was signaling that I was a good manager of human beings, able to lead them into their predetermined boxes for predetermined outcomes. Such a skill is still useful here, but on a more immediate scale. While ordinarily, my resources would be assigned to accomplish tasks that would lead the company to greater heights, now my resources are assigned to ‘not die’ and ‘kill our enemies’. It is a refreshingly simpler set of tasks then any prior commitments, as everyone here is ultimately dedicated in the extreme to accomplishing said two tasks.</p><p>After all, it is easy to dedicate a person to their work when their life depends on their success.</p><p>I didn’t see anyone who needed immediate assistance, my box of time doing its job splendidly of slowing down their forces. The battlefield itself was a simple one this time. The insides of the fort were run down, a dilapidated mess of rusty metal and broken wood that formed what looked more like a death trap then an actual fort. The stone bricks underneath my feet were coated in moss and grass, and I snarled with disgust as I could feel the wet garbage seeping into my boots. It’d be such a pain to clean those, damn it. But, as I was examining the battlefield, a female knight raised her sword with a snarl, shouting a string of words I had been dreading.</p><p>“Heavenly wind, carry us to the fountain of power! <em>Esuna!</em>”</p><p>No! Why do they always have to make the battlefield so ridiculously <em>annoying </em>to fight on?! Just remain easy targets and let us kill you! If you hadn’t lived this way, you wouldn’t have had to die in the first place you idiots!</p><p>My box of time <em>shattered </em>before the spell, the wave of holy magic erupting in a fountain of power that encoated the area. I spat  a half muttered curse, but another mage was engaging us, and I covered my body in mana, before collapsing it. My body vanished, flickering next to her; ignoring her startled glance as I jammed a katana in her side. Her horrified eyes followed me as I drew it from her body, watching coldly as she fell. The knight who had cast the spell looked at me in horror, and I flicked the blood off the blade before sheathing it with a curious look.</p><p>“You… All of you… Are you monsters who feel naught at the deaths of your fellow man!?”</p><p>“You consider yourselves men?” Algus asked as he turned from one of the knights, placing his sword on his soldier. “Men do not burn down villages and kidnap their liege lords, girl.”</p><p>“Is the right to be paid so callous to the likes of you nobles?! Are we not humans, just like you!? If you cut us, can you not see the blood that pours from our veins?”</p><p>Algus barked a laugh, tapping his sword against his head as he leaned forward, opening his mouth to speak, but I spoke first.</p><p>“Humans?” I said with a raised eyebrow. “Brigands are less than human. More worthless than animals. A brigand is someone who deserves only the fire and fury of hell itself. If you were a human, you would have lived honestly, like the rest of us.”</p><p>“It is only due to the nobles that we even must fight! If they viewed us as they should… In the eyes of God, all men are equal!”</p><p>Algus straightened his shoulder, his brow furrowed in a contempt so complete that it could only be called pure revulsion. “Animals such as you have no god!”</p><p>She let out a monstrous scream and rushed him as he spoke, proving herself to be a total idiot. Seriously, doesn’t anyone understand what a ‘battlefield’ is? There’s more than just you and whoever you’re fighting on it, and the consequences of your actions might be swift and immediate.</p><p>I held out a claw-like hand pointed upwards, and concentrated mana underneath her feet. It was heavier, a denser material then I would ordinarily use to prepare a spell, but that was purposeful - even a support mage has to have some form of attack.</p><p>“Revenge of a fallen star,” I hissed, crushing my hand into a fist. “<em>Gravity.</em>”</p><p>The ground collapsed beneath her, and she let out a shriek as she fell downwards into the rubble, Algus moving to engage as Delita stopped by my side, looking at her with frustration.</p><p>“Degurechaff,” he muttered with a tight grip on the handle of his blade, “Is she truly our enemy?”</p><p>“As the leader of the troop we were told to crush, is she not, Heiral?”</p><p>Her screams as she struck at Algus echoed through even the murkiness of the rain. Seriously, this girl was taking this entirely too personally. As a human, I naturally don’t want to die. I’m even willing to kill in order to remain alive. This is the most basic level of human interaction - to ‘eat’ or ‘be eaten’. If you didn’t wish to be eaten, you shouldn’t have sunk as low as criminal behavior.</p><p>“Is it truly all because of a difference in birth?” Delita asked, staring at the sky as it poured water down on us. The rain made it hard to see as the sun lowered itself to slumber, the moon already beginning to crest over the edge of the horizon. “All this death, all this bloodshed, for such a small and insignificant thing?”</p><p>“If they wished to live well, they would have followed the law, Heiral.”</p><p>“Hah… You would take such a cynical view, Degurechaff,” he muttered, clutching his sword. “Very well then.”</p><p>He moved away from me, clashing against another swordsman, his blade moving like lightning when it met his opponent’s, the two men engaging in a duel.</p><p>Ramza had made his way back over to me, and he watched with grim eyes, his mouth curved downwards into a vicious scowl as the rain roared around us, lightning hammering down and setting his figure with a flash of white. Algus and the woman struck each other, and Ramza’s fist clenched around his spear so tightly that I could see his knuckles whiten.</p><p>“Enough of this,” he hissed. “Enough of the bloodshed, the dying, the <em>screaming</em>.”</p><p>He walked forward, and his spear <em>twirled </em>as he disarmed the two with one hand, grabbing Algus by the collar.</p><p>“Look around you, Algus! What victory have we achieved? Slaughtering innocents? Killing those with naught to their name!?”</p><p>“Did they not strike first, Ramza?” Algus said with a furious rage, grasping at the other blond’s collar. “Did they not rape, murder, and kidnap before we ever set out?!”</p><p>“Not like this. This death, the screams in the air… By God, I can’t stand it.”</p><p>The woman looked at him shakily as he turned away from Algus in disgust, walking back towards me.</p><p>“Go.”</p><p>What?</p><p>“Go, whoever you are. Run from this. Go back to your life. If you come in front of me again, I…”</p><p>“Milleuda Folles,” she said, her face held up with determination. “I care not for your petty <em>forgiveness, </em>Beoulve. You bear the name of the nobility, and you shall now and forever be my enemy.”</p><p>“Go, before I change my mind.”</p><p>She gave him a dirty look, and Ramza stood next to me with stoic eyes and clenched fists as she began to stagger away.</p><p>Let her go? Ramza, you idiot! She's one of the leaders of the Brigade in the first place! If you won't do anything about her, she'll just end up rallying another series of troops to try and execute on their ridiculous demands again. Ugh, fine. As always, the dirty work is left to the working class people like me. I drew a katana from my side.</p><p>"Degurechaff?" Ramza whispered to me. "What the devil are you doing?"</p><p>"Brave weapon," I hissed, staring at Milleuda's back. "Turn to a deadly blaze--"</p><p>Ramza's eyes widened, and he started to move. I didn't bother looking at him, the sword already shaking with power as I raised it. You bastard, leaving this to me. Zalbaag said to protect you, right? This is just protecting the <em>future </em>you, from your own stupidity.</p><p>"Kikuichimonji."</p><p>The sword exploded in my hands, sending out a massive burst of fire towards the woman, who turned with a look of horror in her eyes--</p><p>--And Ramza intercepted them, His spear moving like a whirlwind as it burst with electricity, the attack halting where it stood. He blocked me. He <em>blocked me!</em> I'm trying to save his life, and he's stopping me! This idiot, fine. It's just like the entrance exam then, isn't it?</p><p>I'll have to teach him another lesson.</p><p>“Leave,” he said to Milleuda, who was watching the both of us with wide eyes. “This is a personal matter.”</p><p>“Haaaa?” I let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “As expected, Beoulve, you’ve managed to muck everything up even without trying. She’ll go to the Brigade, and they’ll come after us. Use your <em>head</em>, will you?”</p><p>“Tanya-” Ramza’s fist clenched around his spear. “If I let you kill her, I fear I’ll lose myself to you.”</p><p>What does that even mean, Ramza? You’re not talking sense at all! This lesson’s going to be way stricter than the last one if you keep this up, do you hear me!</p><p>“Move, Beoulve. I don’t want to hurt you.”</p><p>Our troops had stopped their efforts in taking prisoners, the idiots that they were. You lot aren’t involved, so stay out of it! This is just a… a… a disagreement between co-workers, alright! Sure it’s embarrassing to do it so publicly, but it’s still fundamentally a disagreement! I curled my fingers around my staff, and Ramza drew his sword.</p><p>“No Tanya,” he said with a sad sort of smile as he pointed his sword at me with his right hand, his left still holding his spear. “I won’t.”</p><p>This idiot really thinks that if he calls me by my first name, I’ll suddenly start blushing and stammering like a schoolgirl? That it’ll make him correct, because he knows my first name? We’ve been going to school together for over a year! I should <em>hope </em>you know my first name, after all the time we’ve spent together!</p><p>“I won’t let you kill her for the crime of being born. If I did, what would be the difference between us and the Brigade?”</p><p>Ramza’s point was idiotic. This entire situation was so <em>stupid </em>I wanted to scream.</p><p>“<em>Fine,</em>” I hissed, twirling my staff. “If you won’t listen to reason, then I’ll just have to <em>make </em>you understand.”</p><p>“Oh God,” a voice said from behind us. “Are they really going to-”</p><p>“Get to cover! Get to cover <em>as fast as possible!”</em></p><p>“Hah…” Ramza let out a breathy laugh as he held his sword steadily at me, like a kid who didn’t understand that weapons were dangerous, and to be pointed at enemies. “What was it you said to me when we first met?”</p><p>“This world is a harsh one,” he said, lightning running down his sword as his face grew determined. “Both cruel and unforgiving. It is no place for the weak. Leave this world to the strong, and go running back to your charmed life of peace.”</p><p>He <em>cut </em>through the air, and a bolt of lightning struck two feet from me. What? What the hell was he doing? Those weren’t <em>sword techniques</em>, was he… Was he casting spells through his sword?</p><p>Ramza, this is why you’re best aimed at my enemies, not at me!</p><p>“I suppose—” his words high and hesitant as his lance burst into flame, and he took a step forward, “—I just want to test myself.”</p><p>“Beoulve, cease this <em>ridiculous </em>display and let me kill her!”</p><p>He rushed me, and I flickered, leaving an after image behind, but he endlessly plowed forward, the flaming spear in his left hand carving towards my face with such a blistering speed that it was all I could do to blow up yet another katana, the howling winds the blade summoned clashing with his spear, the endless slices of energy barely managing to batter back the magic he was somehow <em>pouring </em>into the thing.</p><p>“Tanya,” he said in a breathless voice, and I could swear that it was <em>Zalbaag </em>speaking in front of me, not Ramza. “I have grown strong.”</p><p>And that was when he tried to stab me, the bastard.</p><p>I flickered out of his grip, my staff gripped in my hands as I started casting, layering spells on top of each other. The things I would usually place on Ramza to let him slaughter our enemies went onto me - haste, shell, protect; the colors wove themselves around me like an endless stream, as Ramza came for me again. I didn’t let him approach, already pouring mana into another katana - it was one in eight. One in eight, unless you overloaded it.</p><p>This one did not.</p><p>A wave of flaming energy burst around Ramza, whose eyes narrowed as he ducked backwards to avoid it. I watched him move, still muttering spells under my breath. Damn it, damn it, damn it. I should have never avoided black magic, what a stupid idea! I don’t have any offensive long range spells, and this idiot can apparently <em>cast through weapons! </em>What kind of monster is he?</p><p>“Stop it, Beoulve,” I said with a frown. “This lesson is going to get more and more brutal by the minute.”</p><p>“Lesson? But you’re on the run, Degurechaff,” he said with a smile. I flushed, glaring at him. He stops me from saving future Ramza and for what? To do our standard byplay of banter? This isn’t the academy Ramza! Get over yourself! “Isn’t it you who told me to never give up an advantage?”</p><p>Not against <em>me</em>, idiot! Do you honestly think I bothered training with you all that time so that way you could try to murder me?! Get it together, you brat!</p><p>“I’ve had enough of your tantrum, Beoulve,” I said. “If you get out of the way, I can still catch her.”</p><p>“Always so aggressive…”</p><p>“<em>Beoulve, </em>I’m warning you!”</p><p>He let out a sigh, before twirling the sword in his hand as ice started growing on it, the element slowly encroaching over the blade until it encased it entirely.</p><p>“Have you any idea how those words you said cut to my soul? As I lay on the ground, staring upwards at the sky… All I could think of was how I could prove you wrong.”</p><p>Wrong? Wrong!? You absolute <em>buffoon</em>, I was trying to save you! You’re a noble! You could have taken a backseat like your sister, and lazed around all day while attending easy classes at a normal school instead of a military academy! Instead, you’re out here with me in the dead of night, dueling for the sake of a bandit woman!</p><p>“I never meant for you to care that deeply about what I said.”</p><p>I could feel the spells enhancing my senses, and it meant that I was prepared when Ramza raised his sword, cutting it through the air. A blast of ice carved its way into existence where I stood, and I flickered out of it once more, making his brow furrow. Good. It shouldn’t be <em>easy</em> to fight me, right? Even though he’s ridiculous, all I have to do is be more ridiculous.</p><p>I forged a box of time around him, the flickering walls of mana giving him pause as he glanced at them, his body slowing down as he tried to move. He grinned at me from behind the box, and I smiled back. Something was racing in my body, making me move faster, making me <em>feel </em>stronger. What was it? What was this rush of blood that ran through my head, that encompassed my body and made it feel so much lighter?</p><p>Ahh…</p><p>Is this adrenaline?</p><p>“Your tricks are always so interesting,” he said, twirling his spear. “But even so--”</p><p>His spear <em>flared </em>up, an explosion of flame coating its tip, his legs tensing with energy as he grinned like a madman at me. His body vanished<em>, </em>a surge of power erupting from his legs as he smashed through the top of my box like it wasn’t even there, the magic slowing him, but not enough to actually slow him down. I’d have to triple layer, maybe even quadruple layer it in order to prevent this idiot from moving. Ramza was a devil. He careened towards me like an out of control rocket, his spear held back, and I let out a mad laugh.</p><p>“Fine, Ramza! Let’s <em>dance</em>, you idiot!”</p><p>I pulled a katana out, the weapon barely holding on as Ramza crashed into it, and poured mana into it. More. More. How far can it go? That’s not really the question, is it?</p><p>The question is…</p><p>How far can I <em>make it go?</em></p><p>More mana. The weapon was already shining with light, a high pitched whining sound that echoed through the air, intermixed with… Was that laughter?</p><p>Who the devil was laughing?</p><p>Ah. It’s me. It’s me and Ramza. We’re locked to each other, and neither of us can <em>stop laughing.</em></p><p>“Coming this close,” I said again, smiling so wide my face started to hurt, “That was a mistake.”</p><p>I cracked the mana.</p><p>The sword <em>exploded, </em>shards of it carving across my skin, one of them jamming into Ramza’s arm, making him stagger backwards, dropping his spear. I pulled a knife from my boot, and rushed forward, angling it upwards so it would slip easily into his side. He grinned at me in response, pulling his own knife and I could see a flash of steel as it slammed into my arm.</p><p>We embraced with blood.</p><p>“You’re an idiot,” I whispered, coughing. “Stupid beyond belief. She’ll try to kill you, you know that, right?”</p><p>“Aye,” he replied, his teeth covered in red. “But is it not better for the two of us to settle our differences this way, instead of with her head?”</p><p>“I hate you, Ramza.”</p><p>“I can’t say the same for you, Tanya.”</p><p>My eyes flickered, darkness beginning to cover them as de Floure approached, a panicked look in her eyes. Mana swirled around her, as she began to desperately heal the two of us. Seriously, Lily, take a break okay? We’ve both suffered worse during training. Knife to the side? Between the ribs? <em>Please. </em>I nearly disarmed - literally <em>and </em>figuratively - him once with a lightning spell. Beoulve’s built of tougher stuff than the rest of you, so I’m allowed to try a little harder against him.</p><p>“Don’t…” I choked out, clutching his arm. “Don’t tell Dycedarg.”</p><p>“I wasn’t goin-”</p><p>“Don’t!”</p><p>“Aye…” he murmured, his eyelids fluttering. “I won’t.”</p><p>Damn it.</p><p>Now the score’s 566-<em>3 </em>in verbal sparring with Ramza.</p><p>We collapsed into darkness, and I saw nothing.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Common Mistake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <em>“Degurechaff… She bears an eerie resemblance to you, does she not?”</em>
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  <em>- Delita Heiral to Ramza Beoulve, after Ramza’s loss in the entrance exams to Gariland Academy.</em>
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  <strong>
    <em>Chapter 8: A Common Mistake</em>
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</p><p> </p><p>I awoke to the sounds of combat, and an annoying pain in my right side. I suspected that it was because Ramza was rather unused to stabbing people, preferring to perforate them with a spear or carve them in two with a sword, so he likely didn’t understand the anatomy of what a ‘stabbing’ was made of.</p><p>If you were to stab someone successfully, they should, in theory, almost instantly start bleeding and lose vitality at a rapid rate. At the academy, I had come to discover the best places to stab a person were either directly through the lungs or the liver; such an injury would cause someone to almost immediately collapse, and in this ridiculous world of magic even those injuries were simple to heal. I had attempted to stab Ramza in the liver, but suspected I’d missed in the heat of combat. That was probably fortunate, as if I’d really nailed him, the idiot would have bled out before he could actually be healed.</p><p>But yes, people were fighting. I staggered out of my tent, peering blearily around the area, only to see that it was, yet again, the <em>damn Corpse Brigade.</em></p><p>“Vinya!” I barked as I saw her rush by. She paused, turning to me, her brown eyes filled with concern. “What’s the situation?”</p><p>“Corpse Brigade have surrounded our camp! After you and Ramza had a… spat, we dragged you two out of the… um…”</p><p>“The burning wreckage of the fort?”</p><p>“Yes, that! And we made a camp nearby! But there are too many of them, Tanya! I… I don’t think we can take them all!”</p><p>I let out a curse, staggering to my feet. This Brigade was really going to regret making me move right now, I swore. Every part of my body was aching. The physical part of healing was easy enough; to repair flesh, you added mana <em>to </em>flesh, attuning the mana to the flesh in such a way that it revitalizes itself. But that takes a toll on the person being healed, naturally - this expedited process of ‘natural healing’ causes an aggravation to the soul that makes the body react as if it is weak, even when it’s perfectly fine.</p><p>What an annoying side effect. Why would the creator - if it is Being X, as I suspect - place it into this alternate world in the first place? Magic does as magic is wont to do, with little care for the thought process and thinking of commoners like myself. If that cursed Being they call God here blesses you, you are naturally inclined to mana. The divine intervention of the heavens, as it were.</p><p>But if you are highly attuned to mana, mana naturally affects you more. It’s a recursive loop - people who are good at magic are good at having magic <em>cast on them. </em>As someone who is excellent at magic, being healed often left me feeling lightheaded and dizzy, the overwhelming effects of pure curation causing my grip to be loosened on my mind. Did it view my natural state as something to be corrected? White magic was supposed to be ‘curative’, after all.</p><p>Magic was actually quite obnoxious, even if I found it so wondrous at the same time. If I had to put into simpler terms, magic would be a damn annoying subordinate who tries their best, but ultimately overreaches their capabilities. This frustrating subordinate known as magic is refusing to leave my head alone, its constant sparks sending jitters through my body when I needed it to remain firm.</p><p>“Where are we?” I asked, fumbling a bit as I grabbed a spare staff off the wall. The world swirled as I moved, and I shook my head to attempt to rid myself of the effect. Instead, it made it worse. “Situation report, Villipede.”</p><p>“A few miles from Eagrose! They came out of <em>nowhere</em> Tanya, and descended on the camp! Caim and Finn took the south end, and I think Algus and Delita are covering the north, but the sides…” She bit her lip, looking frustrated. “If you and Ramza had been awake-”</p><p>“Understood,” I said, my brow furrowing as I gnashed my teeth. “Well, I’m awake now. Take me to the west end.”</p><p>It was a simple gap in abilities. While Ramza and I had worked hard, other people had slacked off. Even in our small unit, it was just something that ended up happening; the people who tried harder would crawl their way to the top, while those who coasted on talent would remain vaguely similar for the rest of their time at the academy. That thing called talent can take a person straight to the top, or they can remain a mediocre individual. This is one of the many benefits of meritocracy that cannot be ignored - every person does a job that they are suited for. Unlike here, where it is very simple to get a job you’re unsuited for. I mean, look at me. Do you think I, a simple HR manager, am truly suited for this miserable mire of death and blood that surrounds the average soldier in a medieval world?</p><p>Don’t be absurd. These surroundings are the last thing I want in my life. If there was a way out of this scenario that didn’t involve shedding blood, I’d naturally take it. In a more civilized world, it would be easier to grab hold of. But I’m not the charismatic protagonist of a fantasy manga. I don’t have the ability to use words to convince people that I’m right. As a cog in the proverbial machine of society, I can only accomplish and fulfill the tasks in front of me right now. My position is too low to be of any merit at all, the only people willing to listen to me are my subordinates and <em>Ramza, </em>but he’s just a cadet as well.</p><p>In the future…</p><p>In the future-!!</p><p>This won’t ever happen again! With my comrades in arms entering higher society, and Dycedarg as my superior, I’ll be living life on easy street! While economically Ivalice isn’t doing too well, I can already tell that it’ll swing upwards! By eliminating the Corpse Brigade, trade routes will once more be easier to navigate down, and thus stimulate the economy by promoting trade outside of our borders once more! Even though Ivalice is ostensibly ‘one country’, it’s not as harsh of a requirement as it would be in a post-industrial world like the one I’ve come from. What makes a people ‘countrymen’? Similar situations. Similar inputs and outcomes. Similar ideals formed from a community bond that washes over the entire nation.</p><p>All of these ideals are wonderful in a world that does not have to worry about survival. Ivalice is a society where the strong dominate the weak, and fight over resources that they might distribute to the weak. While economically sound, such a society is absolute trash. A garbage can for refuse to collect in as the bag slowly bulges until it collapses. But it sustains itself, as the entire economy is built on one concept - ‘you and I will survive together’.</p><p>As long as the economy is survival reliant, there is no way for this society to fundamentally advance. Unless I somehow subverted the aristocracy all together, but without massive power backing me such a thing would be beyond impossible. It was best to just keep my eye on any changes in society until I had achieved a higher position.</p><p>My musings were interrupted as I could see the western end of our campsite alight in flames, the orange and red sparking high up in the night sky, a backlight against the ground. Before me, a bandaged man with blond hair was holding up a sword, leaning against his spear.</p><p>“Back!” he shouted, weakly swinging the blade towards the three men surrounding him. “If you dare to come any closer-”</p><p>“What are you going to do?” One of the men said with a sneer, taking a step forward. “<em>Bleed </em>on us?”</p><p>Ramza’s face looked very dignified in spite of the way he could barely hold his arm up.</p><p>This was bad, wasn’t it? Really, really bad. I could barely cast, Ramza couldn’t stand, and this was a horrible matchup for Vinya. While I could rely on freaks like Ramza for melee with ease, it wasn’t as if my squadron had nobody competent in melee; Remia was like a dragon with her fists, and Finn was in a class of his own with the spear. But Vinya…</p><p>Vinya was an assassin, to put it politely. A classical <em>kunoichi</em>. From stealth, a devil, from mid range, a demon, but she had minimal to absolutely no proficiency in honest melee combat whatsoever. She could use knives decently, but any kind of large weaponry was totally beyond her. Damn it. Damn it to hell.</p><p>“Vinya,” I hissed as I watched the three men snicker, “How many can you take? I can’t cast.”</p><p>Vinya’s eyes widened and she gripped my wrist. “You can’t <em>cast? </em>Tanya, what-”</p><p>“I don’t play well with healing. It’s fine,” I said with a pointed glare, and she took her hand off my wrist. “How many?”</p><p>“M-maybe two? If I hit one with a knife, I could stab the other in the side before anyone reacted.”</p><p>That wasn’t enough. If she did that, the third would cut her in two from behind. A subordinate dying on my watch would be the opposite of ideal; it’d be a direct impediment to my future, an absolute stain on my currently impeccable record for no reason. If she walked out first, I could save myself, but not Ramza or Vinya. I couldn’t let Vinya handle this, and my mana was fluctuating so much I couldn’t concentrate on it enough. All I’d be able to do is make something explode. I sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.</p><p>“Then we’ll have to come up with something else. We can’t leave anything to chance here, it’s too dangerous.”</p><p>What could I do? What could I do? I watched the scene with bated breath as one of them took a step forward, but then a cold voice spoke in a low, dark tone, both mocking and dangerous.</p><p>“Not this one,” the man said as he stepped forward. His face was far too fair for the cruel expression on it, framed by brown hair with dark piercing eyes. He wore armor and a cloak, and his sword was pointed at Ramza’s throat. “He’s a bit far from home, isn’t he?”</p><p>He looked closely at Ramza’s face, before a bright smile emerged on his lips, and he let out a laugh.</p><p>“Hahaha! I can’t believe it! To think, after all this planning, all this time spent preparing for this task, one of them would fall into my lap!” His grin was delighted, and he bowed mockingly to Ramza, the tip of his blade never wavering, while Ramza’s arm slowly sagged. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess. We seek it thus, and take it to the sky. Ripples form on the water’s surface.”</p><p>He took a step closer, and Ramza’s sword dropped to the ground.</p><p>“The wandering soul knows no rest. Ramza Beoulve, do you know who I am?”</p><p>“I have no space in my mind to think of deserters.”</p><p>“Deserters? Is that what the nobility thinks of us now? And to think, once upon a time, we were praised to the heavens! I rode with your father for a time, you know. Gragoroth Levigne and Balbanes Beoulve. He told me that my talent would take me far after the war.”</p><p>He smiled at Ramza, taking another step forward. The flames flickered, and I clenched my fists. Do I move now? Do I wait? Ramza seemed prepared for something, even as he leaned against that spear of his, both hands now clutched to it. He was panting, I could tell, but Gragoroth’s eyes flickered in the firelight as he moved, still speaking.</p><p>“Of course, we often disappoint our heroes, do we not? What I desire, Ramza, is what I am owed. And if we will not be given it, then we will <em>take </em>it. Your brother would pay a high price for your return, wouldn’t he?”</p><p>Ramza laughed, his back shaking slightly but his stance remained strong. His legs tensed with energy, even as he panted.</p><p>“My brother would pay no price to brigands. He values me little, I assure you.”</p><p>“I doubt that very much, Ramza,” Gragoroth said as he continued moving forward. Ramza’s head started to lean back, and Gragoroth stopped again. Even from behind, I could tell the tip of the blade was at Ramza’s neck. I had to move. <em>Now. </em>“Your brother has spread your name across all of Gallione. Ramza, the prodigy. Ramza, the second coming of Balbanes. Ramza, the brave. The noble. The just. But Gustav told me what you and yours did at Dorter, Ramza. If anything, I would call you a <em>reaper</em>. Tell me, now that your hands are coated in the blood of my brothers and comrades, would you have done the same thing, knowing you would one day be at the tip of my sword?”</p><p>Ramza laughed, and then his legs twisted, the spear butt jabbing into Gragoroth’s stomach. The man grunted, staggering back as Ramza twirled the spear forward once more, pointing it at his throat. I smacked Vinya on the shoulder.</p><p><em>“</em>Now!”</p><p>She rushed into the clearing as the three knights started to lumber forwards. Her knife threw cleanly across the way, slamming into one of their shoulders, and Vinya immediately jammed it in further as she flipped behind him, delivering an ax kick that smashed the other’s head into the ground as she moved.</p><p>The odds were evened. Two on two, so let’s break the tie. I stumbled forward with a smile, and Gragoroth’s eyes locked onto me before narrowing. Vinya and the other knight struck at each other, her knives clashing with his sword, and my nerves heightened. Could she win? Did she have the talent to win? At a glance, it was impossible to tell; while she was faster, his sword could cut her in two. It was a classic duel, of speed and brawn. I just had to keep Gragoroth off her for now, and it’d all work out.</p><p>“You’re crawling in the dirt, Ser Gragoroth. Does it not feel like your rightful place?” I said with a smile as he scrambled to his feet. “He’s not such an easy opponent, more’s the pity. I’ve learned it over many months.”</p><p>“You as well? God must have smiled on my star when I was born,” Gragoroth said as he looked at me, his smiling growing wider. “To find the both of you here… Gustav was not lying about your looks. You truly resemble a devil.”</p><p>I was that memorable to Gustav, and he followed my orders to the letter! It was always nice to know that your enemies were predictable, as it allowed you to track what they would do without having to pay much attention. Gustav had run back to the leadership and delivered my threat, performing the duty I’d assigned him with aplomb.</p><p>“And yet here I see you before me, Levigne. Did my words not reach your ears?”</p><p>“My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains,” he said with a smile and a slight bow. “I apologize, but the price of freedom, while steep, is a price I am willing to pay. It is my right, is it not?”</p><p>“Your right to what?” I said, frowning. “A slow death?”</p><p>“Nay, that quintessential right that all men are promised at birth. Freedom.”</p><p>His smile grew wider as I frowned, crossing my arms and biting my lip. My eyes flicked back to Vinya, only to find her arms shaking as her enemy’s blade hammered into them, over and over. Steel clashed, and I could see Vinya faltering. This was going to hell faster then I could have imagined.</p><p>“And what does it mean, this right to be free?” Ramza asked with narrowed eyes. “The right to steal? To murder?”</p><p>“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment - to find the end of this journey,” Gragoroth said with that same damned smile, so arrogant and condescending. Is this bastard looking down on me? “The cages that trap you are many, are they not, <em>Beoulve? </em>Your name. Your honor. Your faith. And what do you use them for, but to hammer us down?”</p><p>He clenched his free hand, holding it close to his heart as he pointed his blade at Ramza. His eyes were lit by fire, and the twisted hate in them filled me with a sense of disgust. To hate someone so thoroughly, simply for the crime of existence - maybe becoming a member of the Beoulve household was a mistake. Actually, please forget everything I said, Ramza! I don’t want to join your family at all, I didn’t consider the negatives! Are these sort of events common for you!?</p><p>“But what we, the Corpse Brigade desire is <em>true </em>freedom. The freedom to live where we wish. The freedom to work as we please. We’ll remove that burden from your shoulders with ease, Beoulve. That is what this is, after all.”</p><p>He turned his head, rolling his eyes as he watched Vinya and her opponent duel. The man leaned back, a vicious swipe of Vinya’s dagger carving past where his head just was, and his sword clashed against it as he came up,his strength far too much for Vinya, who fell to a knee. My heart pounded in my throat as I watched my subordinate. Who takes jobs that they’re not capable of completing!? You’re not just risking your life, but mine! You can’t just pretend to be good enough, you have to <em>excel </em>to fight!</p><p>“Alistar, cut her down, why don’t you? Playing with your food that way…”</p><p>He smiled at us, a disgusting thing slowly crawling over his face as he squinted his eyes. Ramza’s jaw clenched, and I tapped an elbow into his side to bring him back to reality. He blinked, turning to look at me. I stared into his eyes, and he nodded, slowly turning back.</p><p>“That’s what <em>nobles </em>do.”</p><p>The straw-haired man that Vinya was dueling with let out a grunt, before slamming his shoulder into her with a sudden burst of motion. She let out a gasp, and his sword swung over his head, straight at hers. My eyes widened, but he twisted it to the side, the flat of the blade slamming against her head knocking her unconscious.</p><p>“Beoulve,” Gragoroth said with a bow, “I will be kidnapping you. To hold for ransom, until your precious lord brother agrees to treat with us.”</p><p>“And why would I agree to your whims?” Ramza asked.</p><p>“Because if you don’t, it would be simple to tell my men that the methods Alistar is using are… No longer quite so necessary.”</p><p>“You bastard-!”</p><p>“Such a statement is truly amazing to hear from your lips, Beoulve,” he said quietly, his eyes dark as he stared at Ramza. “I lost friends at Dorter. I lost friends at that fort you were just at as well. Does this not make me ‘honorable’, that I do not execute your men on the spot?”</p><p>“I’m sure,” I said dryly with my arms folded across my chest, “That executing children is an excruciatingly difficult endeavor.”</p><p>“Children, Beoulve?” He said, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “The moment you chose to take up arms, you ceased to be children in the eyes of God.”</p><p>I didn’t know anything about scripture, so I smiled at him in way of response. I was thinking. There was no solution to make sure nobody died besides going with him, was there? It was best if Ramza went, because he was the more valuable target in the first place. I was just an ordinary peasant girl with nothing to my name, nobody would come rushing after <em>me. </em>But even so, it’s important to appear good in front of my superior, right?</p><p>“Don’t take Ramza. Take me instead.”</p><p>“You can’t sacrifice yourself for me,” Ramza said as he finally rolled himself off his spear, standing upright with shaking legs. “I will be kidnapped, and you will be safe.”</p><p>Damn this insufferable moron. I’m just paying lip service, you know!? I don’t actually want to be kidnapped, so let me handle this! I thought fast, but my lips started speaking before my brain could catch up. Was it the healing? It was definitely the healing, right?</p><p>“Absolutely not. As your… Your…”</p><p>"Are those perhaps… feelings, you’re struggling with there, Degurechaff?"</p><p>I wanted to die. My mouth was simply incapable at the moment of keeping up with my brain, and the words that I had wanted to say were lost to the wind. Naturally, I had almost zero interest in  being entangled to Ramza. While the ease of noble life was an extremely attractive offer, Ramza was in the absolute last place for nobles I want to marry. The expectations alone! And the politics! I’d tear my hair out in a week trying to navigate this idiot’s general political incompetence. I was simply trying to avoid the inevitable demotion that would come with getting my superior kidnapped.</p><p>I tried to weave mana to bludgeon myself to unconsciousness, but it just moved weakly through my veins before fizzling right before it affected the physical world. Damn you, white magic! I take it all back, you’re anything but the best!</p><p>"Beoulve, silence yourself. As your comrade, it is well within my rights to be kidnapped in your place."</p><p>"Is... is this what you call 'courting', Degurechaff? You're terrifying."</p><p>"Beoulve, I would sooner court death itself before approaching you for a relationship."</p><p>"So fast to reject the concept… Are you hiding something from me?"</p><p>Oy, oy, is the silver spoon sticking out of your ear now or something? Seriously, I understand that the constraints of aristocracy could easily drag one into a state of utter and pure bliss, but is now really the time for your brain to exit the station?</p><p>"Look around you for a moment and use that space between your ears, please."</p><p>"Alas, I cannot seem to free myself of the thought of being bound to you forever. It's... enthralling, yet horrifying. Do we break our bread in the morning over daggers, and sup in the eve on poisoned wine in your fantasies?"</p><p>"Oh, woe is me, it appears that the hostagetaking maneuvers of the Brigade will fail. Alas, I am forced to crush my beloved's idiot head with a mace in order to make him comprehend his surroundings."</p><p>As I moved to strangle Ramza, Gragoroth’s face looked perplexed.</p><p>“Degurechaff? There’s no need for pretense, Alma. We’re well aware of who you are.”</p><p>Alma?</p><p>“She’s not my sister, Gragoroth.”</p><p>Gragoroth looked at me, his eyebrow raised as he scratched his cheek.</p><p>“Have you never seen a portrait of your mother? This girl… She’s the spitting image of her. Cold blue eyes, pale as a vampire, fairly… small in stature.”</p><p>Oh no.</p><p>“She’s always around you, is she not Ramza? That girl in your home… what a clever misdirection from the real location of Alma Beoulve.”</p><p>Oh <em>no.</em></p><p>“The Beoulves have a new prodigy, do they? What a clever misdirection, Alma - but we uncovered the truth.”</p><p>That sleazy smile of his dragged over his face slowly, like a jacket being unzipped. Alistar moved away from Vinya’s body, and I watched as he sheathed his sword once more, standing by Gragoroth’s side.</p><p>“The Beoulves have a <em>pair </em>of prodigies; Balbanes’ youngest. Ramza and Alma Beoulve. It’s poetic, is it not? The blade and the sorcerer, together once more. It’s as if they reincarnated after their deaths.”</p><p>That’s close enough to correct to almost annoy me.</p><p>“We look nothing alike,” I pointed out to our grandiose captor.</p><p>“Are you quite sure?” Gragoroth said. “The resemblance is… uncanny.”</p><p>I looked at Ramza. His thin almost elfen-like face, bright eyes, and golden hair stared back at me with a perplexed expression. I squinted, to see if his face would change in some way to resemble mine, before rolling my eyes.</p><p>A sense of pity washed through my heart for Gragoroth. Not only was he delusional, but he was also faceblind. While glasses existed in this world, psychology was lackluster at best. The psychology of madmen is a study that can only be uncovered in times of peace, where survival is no longer a necessity, but a byproduct of society as a construct. So I can only look at Gragoroth, and know that his condition assuredly had a name in the future, but as a former member of Japanese society, I can only call it chuunibyou syndrome.</p><p>“I see no such resemblance,” I said, eyes narrowing as I looked at him. “And furthermore-”</p><p>“Now, now <em>Alma,</em>” Ramza said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked at him, and his shaky grin did not endear me with great confidence. “Let us drop the charade, they’ve clearly figured it out.”</p><p>Wait a minute Ramza, you’re not seriously suggesting we both get kidnapped just so your sister remains safe, are you? That’s really not an acceptable outcome! I was just paying lip service to proprietary, so that way you’d be assured I’d put in a little bit of effort to get you back! This isn’t a solution, this is just throwing us both into the fire!</p><p>“No, hang on a second-”</p><p>“Oh sweet sister,” Ramza said, giving me a hug around my neck. I kicked him in the shin, but he tightened his grip. “It is a shame our ruse has fallen through, but fear not!”</p><p>He looked me in the eye, and I glared death at him.</p><p>“Ramza,” I hissed, “I don’t <em>want </em>to be kidnapped.”</p><p>“Well Tanya,” he whispered back, “You’re my best bet for escape after <em>being </em>kidnapped.”</p><p>Damn it. He had me there.</p><p>“Only if you pay for it. I won’t do it if you don’t pay.”</p><p>“Is there no sense of nobility in that black pit you call a heart? No soft spot for my sister?”</p><p>“Your sister glares at me everytime she sees me. I think she might dislike me.”</p><p>“...Even so, the camp is aflame. We have no choice but to go along with their ploy.”</p><p>Gragoroth yawned loudly.</p><p>“Alas, I grow tired of the waiting around. I am a generous man, fear not! You have ten seconds to make a decision.”</p><p>Ten seconds? I still couldn’t cast, Ramza was bleeding, and Vinya was unconscious. Being X, this must be your fault! How else could they have found us here?! I don’t know how long we were unconscious, but it surely isn’t that close to the fort in the first place! And Gragoroth’s absurdity, that has to be your fault too, right!? Ramza’s sister, how ridiculous. We don’t even look at all similar. Ramza wasn’t even the tallest member of our class, but he still towered over me by a good half a foot at least. Maybe nine inches? I didn’t bother thinking too deeply about how tall I was, I’d seen shorter wizards then myself in a few of the history books.</p><p>“Very well,” I whispered to Ramza, “Go with him, escape at the first opportunity, kill all of our captors. Simple enough.”</p><p>“Perhaps it’s possible to bargain you down to ‘light maiming’ of our captors?”</p><p>I glared at him. After our minor disagreement, I was proven absolutely right, and he <em>still </em>wants to argue over the level of casualties?</p><p>“No,” he said with a sigh, eyes downcast. “You’re right. Much easier if we slay them on our exit.”</p><p>I smiled, turning towards Gragoroth, and bowing slightly.</p><p>“Ser Gragoroth,” I said, looking at him as my smile grew wider and wider, “We release ourselves into your benevolent graces.”</p><p>“Alistar, sound the horn,” Gragoroth said with a laugh, beckoning us forward. Ramza staggered a bit, but walked solidly all the same. “Drop the weapons, you two. We’ll be having none of that on the road.”</p><p>Alistar rummaged around on his belt before unclipping a monster’s horn - one I could not identify - and blew into it loudly, the sound roaring through the valley. It was a slowly rising note until it reached a fever pitch, and then the man removed his lips, placing the horn back onto his belt.</p><p>I mourned as I removed my weapons, placing my katanas and staff by Vinya. Ramza dropped his spear on the ground with a clatter, slowly removing his sword from his side as he stared at Gragoroth with stony eyes.</p><p>“Even if the morrow is barren of promises,” Gragoroth said as he ushered us along, the echo of the horn ringing in my ears. “Nothing shall forestall my return. It is a blessing to you and yours that you agreed to come easily. Our mounts are near, let us make haste.”</p><p>We moved with speed, and I stared back at the camp, watching the fires and seeing Gragoroth’s men exit it. There was no blood on their weapons, but I worried for our men.</p><p>How were they going to function <em>without </em>us?</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Delita’s eyes were cold as he watched the men leaving. His leather jerkin was covered in sweat, and he could feel bruises forming on his ribs where one of the bandits had kicked him. He let out a groan of pain as he sat up, eyes still bleary as he reached around for his sword. Delita’s hand closed around it, feeling the comforting grip that he’d trained so many hours with in his fingers once more.</p><p>Stabbing it into the ground, he stood with a groan. Looking to his left, he saw Remia gasping for breath, and he staggered over to her, using his sword as a makeshift cane.</p><p>“Get up Rem,” Delita said. “Can’t have anyone accuse us of sleeping on the job, can we?”</p><p>“Rather sleep,” the girl said, squeezing her eyes shut, “Then think of what Tanya’s going to do when she finds out we <em>lost.</em>”</p><p>“Think about what hell our commanders will drag us through when our campsite isn’t ablaze, won’t you?”</p><p>The girl let out a groan in response, her eyes tearing up as she brought her hands to cover them.</p><p>“<em>When she finds out I let her coffee burn…</em>”</p><p>Delita empathized with Remia’s pains, having once attempted to take some of Degurechaff’s private stash, only to wake up two hours later with daggers pinning him to the wall. It was around that time that Delita had sworn off the substance entirely, for reasons that he claimed were unrelated.</p><p>“Coffee or not, nothing to do about it,” Delita said, extending a hand. “Now get up. We have to keep moving.”</p><p>Remia grabbed his hand, letting herself be hauled off the ground with a beleaguered sigh as she dusted herself off. The blonde looked at Delita with surprise, a smile slowly growing on her face.</p><p>“I never thought I’d see the day where <em>you </em>took charge, Del,” she said, waggling a finger at him. “Did someone get a sense of duty instilled into them?”</p><p>Delita barked out a laugh in response, leaning against his sword. He looked at the burning tents around them, his eyes flickering in the fires.</p><p>“This world,” he said as mud seeped into his boots, “It may be cruel. But it has an immeasurable kindness in it. So that others may live in peace, we must be cruel ourselves. To chase down those brigands and remove them from this place…”</p><p>Delita smiled brightly at Remia, as he pulled his sword out of the ground, flicking the dirt off of it.</p><p>“Would that not be the most righteous task we could ask for?”</p><hr/><p> </p><p>whats up demons. Originally I only wanted Tanya kidnapped, then someone told me 'wouldn't it be funny if they both were kidnapped' and I had to sojourn to do some rewriting.</p><p> </p><p>As always if u disagree with something I've written, just tell me why and I'll REWRITE SOME CONTENT OR WHATEVER. I am an open book, upon which there are pages of bad ideas to unfold.</p>
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